Black Wings
by MsWikit
Summary: AU story. Dick Grayson was never taken in by Bruce Wayne, and never discovered his secret. Instead, the young acrobat is thrown into a shabby orphanage where he is abused every day, all day. And so he begins his journey towards his one, true goal: revenge
1. Crashing Down

Here I am again, guys!

No, I'm not dead. I've been at a four-week camp having an awesome time. But since they have no internet access, I haven't been able to update chapters of Emergency. More are on the way, I promise. I'll also be doing this story for when I can't seem to find muse for Emergency. And I'll update Emergency when I can't seem to find muse for this.**  
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><p><strong>August 15<strong>**th****, 2006 **

The day everything came crashing down. Including his parents.

He tried to reach for them. He did. They swung towards him, and he got down on his belly and reached out as far as he could. _So close_. His fingertips brushed his mother's. He lurched slightly to try and grab more of her hand. In the process, he nearly fell himself. But it was no use. Her hand slipped past. They started falling and falling…the audience was gasping and screaming. By that time they'd realized this wasn't part of the show. Yet many mothers didn't have the time to cover their children's eyes before the two acrobats hit the hard ground below. The younger ones didn't know what they were looking at. The older ones cringed and looked away. Some cried, some screamed.

But not Richard John Grayson.

He was old enough to know what he'd just seen. The gravity of the situation slammed into him as hard as his parents had slammed into the ground. But he didn't look away. He stayed frozen on his platform, lying on his stomach with his arms hanging off. The crowd was in a frenzy. People were streaming out of the tent in a massive, rushing river of panicked bodies. But his eyes stayed locked on the two broken bodies down on the ground. Finally he looked away towards the quickly emptying stands.

That man was sitting there still. Smirking at the bodies. And clapping.

_Clapping_.

Little Richard had almost forgotten him. That man that came to their circus manager demanding money for 'protection.' He hadn't gotten it. And now…

Oh, he would get his. Even if the boy had to take it into his own hands. That man would get just what was coming to him.

xxxx

The circus gave him up to the foster care system without much of a fight. Of course, _he'd _fought. He ran and hid from the social worker when she came. Climbed up in the highest places he could find so that no one could reach him. (His parents used to be able to. But they were gone, so no one was left to drag him back down.) Eventually, though, he was lured down a few hours later when hunger and his bladder got the best of him. After he ate and took a whizz, they tried to make him get into the social worker's car again. He tried to climb back up to another high place, but two of the circus folk took him by the arms and made him get in.

"Don't make me go!" he begged. "I want to stay here! With you guys!"

They looked sad. "It's for your own good, lil guy. Besides; we got no legal rights to ya. We'd keep ya here if we stood a chance in court." They closed the car door.

The sight of the social worker made him sick. She was a fairly young woman with pretty brown hair that she kept pulled back into a bun. She kept trying to tell him how great his new foster home would be, and that he'd get to school with actual kids. She kept prattling on and on about how great Gotham was. But all he could do was stare out the window at a gray sky over a gray city and long for the colorful trailers and tents and people that were all he'd ever known.

The foster home they arrived at wasn't really a foster home. It was a freaking orphanage. It was a large, old, creepy-looking house in what might have been a nice part of Gotham at one time. Maybe they just called it a 'foster home' so that kids wouldn't try to run away when the social workers came for them. But he ran from the social worker anyway. So did it really matter?

She walked him up the pathway that led on to the porch. The lawn wasn't really a lawn. It was a large patch of weeds and mud that surrounded the house. The wooden porch steps creaked under his weight, even though he'd taught himself how to walk without being heard. It was good fun to sneak up on the other circus people and scare them out of their wits. That seemed like such a long time ago. When his world was comprised of big-top tents, clowns, lion tamers, and smiling faces. Now it was comprised of an old house with peeling paint and a city that seemed to have long-ago given up hope. Hope for what, he didn't know. But he got the feeling Gotham was a city made up of hopeless people who went around fooling themselves into thinking that there was anything good about their shithole of a town.

The door was opened by a gangly teenager. Maybe sixteen years old and twice the size of him.

"YO, MARTHA! WE GOT A NEWBIE!" he yelled. How he could be heard over the other kids screaming all over the house was a mystery. The boy leaned on the doorframe and looked over the fresh meat. "What's your name, kid?"

"…my parents called me Dick…" he said.

"Dick? HA! No shit? That cuz you're a little fag-"

The boy was shoved aside by a short, but very wide woman. Her face reminded Dick of a frog's. Her hair was gray, frizzy, and all over the place. Her brown eyes were narrowed at him. "Figures they'd send me another little one. What the fuck happened to his parents? Overdose? Shooting?"

"They were acrobats. Their ropes failed them, and they didn't have a safety net-" The social worker seemed very used to this woman. Too used to her.

"Their ropes didn't fail them!" Dick snapped. "I told you, and I told the police: it was _sabotage_! Why does no one believe me?"

The woman, Martha, rolled her us. She grabbed Dick by the shoulder and tugged him in. Before the social worker could get a word in edgewise, the door was slammed in her face.

"Follow me." Martha grunted. She led Dick up two rickety old staircases and into a narrow, crowded hallway. Kids of all ages were running around. Screaming, crying, fighting. She led him into a small, box-like room with two sets of bunk beds shoved up against two of the walls. "The top bunk is empty. Take it or leave it." With that she walked out. No, wait. Waddled out. Dick watched her go before climbed on to the top bunk, heaving his suit case along with him.

And, for the first time, he cried.

The tears ran down his cheeks. The world blurred before him. This wasn't a bad dream. This was real life. This was _his_ life now. No more parents. No more circus. Just Gotham city, an orphanage, and screaming kids. After he finished crying, Dick wiped at his eyes and opened his suitcase. There wasn't much in it. Some changes of clothes, his old costume, (He refused to give it up.) a picture of him and his parents, and a folded up poster advertising their act in the circus. Dick stared at the picture, holding it delicately in his hands. It was only last week that his mother was there, kissing him good morning and berating him into eating her awful cooking. And his father would laugh and tease the both of them.

_How do things change so much in just a few days? _Dick wondered.

Somewhere down the hall, something smashed loudly against a wall. This brought on more yelling from the other kids and from their caretaker Martha. Dick cringed and hopped off his bed. He landed lightly on the floor. He went over to the small, dusty window and forced it open. A gust of unusually cool August wind came in and tousled his black hair. He leaned out of the window slightly. In their act, his mother had based all their costumes off of birds. His father had been a raven. She'd been a dove. And he'd been a robin. Whenever they saw one on their travels, he always took it as a symbol of good luck. Dick would have given anything to see a robin fly past at that moment.

But he didn't see so much as a pigeon.

The time for good luck was over, apparently.

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><p>To be clear, I'm just assuming the events in Young Justice happen in 2011. Whether I'm correct in it or not remains to be seen. But yeah.<p> 


	2. Fly

I'm very happy with the amount of feedback I got from the first chapter alone! Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

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><p>All around him was a blur of color. Oranges and yellows, pinks and greens. They blended and swirled together in the background. He rubbed his hands together. They were white with chalk. He backed up into the pole the platform was mounted on, ran a few steps, and jumped into the air. The bar swung towards him, and he caught it in his hands easily. He could feel air flow past him as he let go at the height of the next swing, did a flip, and caught the next bar with his knees. All of it was as natural and easy as breathing to him. Dick let go, reaching out the catch the next bar as it swung towards him. He jumped again and was caught by his mother, who was hanging by her knees on another bar. She held his wrists and smiled at him. His own face was reflected in her bright blue eyes.<p>

"My little robin." she said lovingly.

Dick grinned. This was the way things were supposed to be. Him, his parents, and their act. It was all he'd ever wanted. All he ever needed, actually. And suddenly, his mother's image began to waver. It was like looking at a TV full of static. Her image became blurred and scratchy. It faded in and out. Her hold on his wrists flashed in and out before disappearing entirely. Suddenly Dick was falling. He fell past his father. His father tried to reach out and grab him. But when their fingertips brushed, his dad disappeared in the same manner.

Just like that, Dick was falling alone. The colors melted away into nothing but blackness. He couldn't see a thing. Yet he got the terrifying feeling that he was moving, alarmingly fast, towards the unforgiving ground below. Dick closed his eyes (Not that it made any difference. It was all black either way.) and screamed.

"_Fly, my little robin!" _His mother's voice echoed around him.

"I can't!" he yelled back.

"_Fly!" _This time it was his father.

Dick simply kept falling.

"_FLY!" _They were both screaming now. Their voices were ringing in his ears. His heart was hammering in his chest, he could feel the ground getting closer-

xxxx

Dick awoke with a start. And, with another start, realized he actually _was_ falling. He hit the carpeted floor (Which did not feel carpeted at all) and groaned. None of his three roommates stirred. Dick pushed himself up off the floor, rubbing his head. In the middle of his nightmare he must have rolled off of his bunk. He sat on his bed for about an hour before realizing there was no way he was going to get back to sleep. So Dick went with the usual solution: sneaking out.

It had been two years since he arrived at what he called the Shithole. He'd picked up the word from Rodney, the Shithole's resident future psychopath. (More on him later.) In those two years, Dick had begun to adapt to his new environment. He learned to keep his mouth shut unless spoken to, at the Shithole and at school. Dick had been bumped up not one, but _two _grades. So whatever he said, the older kids were most likely going to punch him for it anyway. Keeping his mouth shut managed to improve this situation, at least in terms of school.

Dick had also learned that, in various afternoons lingering alone at the school due to not wanting to go back to the Shithole, he was _really_ good with computers. Halfway into his first year of public school, Dick figured out a way around the programming that the schools installed to keep track of what every kid did. Of course, he kept this information to himself. If he had any friends he might have told them how to do it. But he didn't have any friends.

The third and final thing Dick had learned was how to avoid being adopted/sneak out. The two were tied together in his mind. Whenever a perspective family was coming to see him, Martha would tell him to wait in his room. And he would…for maybe five minutes. Then Dick would go to the window and jump out. (It took a few times to learn how to land on the weed-invested lawn.) After that he would go behind the house and proceed behind the various other creepy, crumbling houses of the neighborhood. Once he got to a house he called the Raven House, it was usually safe for him to use the sidewalk. Then Dick would enjoy a nice walk through Gotham. After six hours he'd go back. By that time the family would have left. Martha would scream at him and slap him across the face. Dick would bite back tears of pain, but say nothing anyway.

At first Dick only snuck out when the threat of adoption was looming in the horizon. Eventually, though, he began to do it whenever. Though it usually started happening in the middle of the night, when his bad dreams woke him up.

Dick got dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a baggy T-shirt. He went to the window, opened it as silently as possible, and jumped out.

Jumping was always the best part. For a brief moment, he felt as if he were flying again. He could imagine the trapeze bar swinging towards him. Then gravity would kick in, and he'd have to remember to tuck and roll so that he didn't sprain an ankle or anything when he landed. The landing on that night was an unusually smooth one. He stood up and brushed the dirt from his clothes before proceeding to walk behind the house, towards the heart of the city. Once he reached the Raven House, he began to use the sidewalk. Soon shabby shops and strip clubs turned into tall skyscrapers and he went from being alone to being watched by the eyes of tired homeless people, sketchy people in allies, and the gargoyles mounted on buildings.

It wasn't an ideal situation. A lone ten-year-old boy walking the streets of Gotham at two thirty in the morning. Dick was practically asking to be abducted, or killed, or whatever. But he wasn't too worried. People had tried to kidnap him or threaten him before. Especially on his walks. Thankfully, though, Dick had learned a fourth and final thing at the Shithole: fight, and fight dirty. It got him out of trouble quite usually.

Usually.

"_Fly my little robin." _

Dick kept his hands in his pockets as he walked and thought about his nightmare. It seemed to happen almost every single night. Yet the pain he felt when he woke up was still as fresh as ever. The worst part was looking into his mother's eyes. People had always said that he got his eyes from her. They were the same shade of bright blue that you could spot from across the room. Whenever he looked into those eyes in that dream, it brought back feelings he hadn't felt in two years. Warmth. Safety. Happiness. Love. Even just hearing her use his old pet name made him feel like he was on top of the world. And then, just like that, it would all be snatched away again. He would be going down, with nothing but darkness and that terrible feeling of falling. Had his parents felt that as they fell to their deaths? He remembered both of their eyes were huge. His father had kept his eyes on the top of the tent, a look of shock on his face. But his mother had kept a hand outstretched towards her son. Her mouth was shaped in a silent scream…

Up ahead, there was an explosion.

The sidewalk shook. A fireball blossomed on the street near the next corner. Dick stopped and stared at it with mild fascination. But he wasn't too concerned with the fire that was now spreading down the parked cars on the street. He was more concerned with the green-colored gas that was no spreading through the air. Dick covered his nose and mouth with his shirt and moved towards the corner. Heat radiated from the cars as the fire burned. One car wasn't there anymore. It's parts were scattered across the road in a twisted metal mess.

Someone dropped down beside him. Dick was startled and jumped away from them. When he did this, he got a nice big breath of the gas. Suddenly the side walk seemed to fall away. All that was left was black. And he was falling. Falling and falling…a huge figure with glowing red eyes stood over him and just watched…

xxxx

Dick awoke sitting on a roof top. He sat up, gasping for breath. His blue eyes were wide as he looked around. Then he spotted the figure standing on the edge of the building. It was dressed in all black, with a black cape that fluttered slightly in the nightly breeze. The boy could identify him as well as any other kid in Gotham could.

"…you're the Batman." Dick said.

Batman turned. It seemed he had been looking at some type of projection that was being made by some type of device on his arm. Dick wanted to look at the technology and figure out how it worked. But he wasn't going near that man unless he had to. The Batman looked pretty intimidating on TV alone. In real life, when he was staring you down, you pretty much wanted to wet yourself.

"What were you doing out there?" the Batman demanded. His voice was strong and his tone was harsh. For a brief moment Dick was reminded of when his father chastised him doing something wrong. It felt like the same thing almost. Except the Batman was a scary-looking stranger, and not his father. "That was very dangerous."

"I was walking." Dick's voice didn't tremble like he thought it would.

"At two in the morning? By yourself?" The caped crusader looked unconvinced.

"I don't have anyone to walk with." Dick shrugged. He looked around. "How did I…"

"I was on my way to track a mobster down to get some information when I heard the car bomb go off…that gas you inhaled was Fear Gas. I get the feeling it was set to go off later when the street was more crowded. But the bomb was incorrectly programmed." The Batman looked at him long and hard after he finished speaking. Perhaps he could sense that the gears were turning in Dick's mind.

Fear Gas, car bombs, mobsters, information…mobsters. Information. "…you're a detective, aren't you?" Dick watched him nod. "They call you the world's greatest. And you're supposed to clean up Gotham's streets. Aren't you?" Dick thought of the clapping man. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that he was part of the mob. Surely there had been evidence of sabotage, if they looked? Yet the clapping man wasn't in jail. No investigation had been done, despite Dick's best efforts to convince them there was foul play. If the Batman had cared to look, he would have seen the blood in the water. Dick had. And he'd only been eight years old…but the Batman hadn't cared to look. "…you're a pretty sucky detective."

The Batman said nothing.

"My parents were murdered when I was eight." Dick continued. "I could see it was sabotage. I knew it was. I saw the blood in the water. Anyone would have. If they looked."

It was impossible to tell if he was making the masked man mad or not. After a long silence he said, "I'm sorry."

There was more silence. Finally Dick said, "Do you kill people?"

"I don't."

"Why not?" Dick would kill the clapping man, if he ever got the chance. He'd decided that two years ago when he stared down at him from the platform. He had no idea what the man's name was, where he was from, or anything else other than what his face looked like. But Dick had resolved to find him one day. Then maybe make _him_ fall. Shoving him off a skyscraper might be a fitting end. But it seemed too…quick.

The Batman didn't answer. "Where do you live? I'm going to arrange for the police to take you home."

"No, thanks. The police are pretty useless. Even with simple stuff." Dick walked towards the edge of the building. It was a far drop down. Too far for him to just jump, then tuck and roll before he hit the ground. But the next building over was considerable shorter. He backed up, got a running start, and leapt. The Batman tried to stop him. But he was too late. Dick landed on all fours on the other building. When he glanced back up, Batman was watching him. Dick ignored him and jump off of the short building and on to the street. He began to walk back to the Shithole.

That night, Dick decided two things:

1. Fear was a valuable tool.

2. The Batman and the police were ineffective tools for enforcing justice.

But why were they? Batman used fear to enforce justice. Certainly that should work? But Dick realized the flaw within the plan: criminals knew Batman wasn't going to kill them. They knew the police weren't going to kill them. It reduced the fear of them dramatically. There were too many rules restricting the police, and one too many restricting the Batman.

If anyone wanted to get anything done in Gotham, he decided, they would have to be relentless.

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><p>Only one more chapter before the main story starts. Right now I'm focusing on how Dick becomes...well, you'll see.<p> 


	3. The Greatest Men

Thanks so much for all the feedback, you guys! I'll try to get another chapter uploaded today as a special thanks!

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><p>Rodney Chambers was a boy that was two years older than Dick, and twice his size. As both boys grew, Rodney got on to the high school football team. He began steroids to improve his performance, which didn't help his already violent tendencies. Rodney's hobbies included picking on the younger kids at the orphanage, killing stray cats and dogs, and football. Dick had crossed paths many times with him at the orphanage. They were in the same grade due to Dick being bumped up two grades, and Rodney seemed to resent his intelligence. Dick got many a black-eye from Rodney, and grew to hate him over the years. Little did he know it would be Rodney to teach his most important lesson on his quest for justice.<p>

October 11th, 2010 was a very typical day at first. Dick woke up and caught the bus to the high school with the older kids. He went to class, did his work, and sat quietly. (Though in his computer class he managed to hack into the school security cameras.) He ate lunch by himself outside. Rodney smacked him whenever they passed each other in the hallway. Then at the end of the day they got back on the bus to head back to the Shithole.

On the bus, Dick was reading a book about the Batman. It was examining his tactics and discussing his mysterious identity. The author had concluded at least one thing about the Batman: he had to be either very rich, or very connected. Dick thought over all the wealthy, connected people in Gotham. Bruce Wayne. The mayor. That one Congressman who had the sex scandal…none of them seemed like likely candidates. Bruce Wayne was a trust-fund baby who usually was drunk or partying. Or both. The mayor was a fat, lazy old man. That one Congressman wasn't exactly a hero-type, either…

As he was thinking, the book was ripped out of his hands.

"Whatcha reading, faggot?" Rodney asked.

"Give it back, Rodney." Dick frowned at him. He wasn't in the mood to deal with him. To be fair, though…he was never in the mood to deal with him.

Rodney read the title. "_The Batman: Tactics Revealed_. What the fuck is this bullshit?"

"My book. Can I have it back, now?" Dick asked.

Of course, he didn't get it back. Not on the bus. Not when they got off the bus. Not in the Shithole. Finally, before bed, Dick went to his room to get the book out. It was sitting on Rodney's bed. Some of the pages had been ripped out and thrown on the floor. That angered him quite a bit. In truth, it wasn't _his_ book. It was his computer sciences teacher's book. Mr. Pompeo was his favorite teacher, and Dick was his favorite student. He'd noticed that Dick had an interest in how Batman operated and lent him the book. He knew Mr. Pompeo wouldn't mind…but it still upset Dick anyway.

He was picking up the torn pages when Rodney came in and put him in a headlock.

"Did I say you could have it back, faggot?" Rodney asked.

Dick had become very good at fighting thanks to his years in the Shithole. You had to fight for practically anything. If you wanted a good breakfast, you usually had to smack and kick to get any decent food. If you had a problem with someone, you fought it out. If you went by skill alone, Dick was the best fighter in the house. He was quick on his feet, agile, and knew exactly what to do and when to do it. But Rodney had the advantage of size, as mentioned previously. Dick had yet to learn how to deal when he was up against someone much bigger and stronger than him. So Rodney was able to drag Dick out of the room while maintaining the headlock.

"Let go of me you jackass!" Dick yelled. Kids were stopping to stare. Some of them looked on in sympathy. Though it wasn't as if they'd help. Offering help at that point would have basically been suicide.

It wasn't hard to predict what was going to happen when Rodney dragged him over to the top of the stairs. He let go of Dick. Before the smaller boy had a chance to run or get a hit in, Rodney shoved him down the stairs. "Fly, ya little faggot!"

Good news: Dick hit his head and blacked out. So he did not remember the rest of the fall.

Bad news: From that hit to the head he gained a concussion. He also was given: three broken ribs, a cracked wrist, and a hell of a lot of bruising.

Dick woke up in the hospital. While the nurses questioned him about his 'fall', the gears in his mind were turning. When they left, he thought of the book that Rodney had taken from him. The book had determined that Batman had to be someone who had money to burn. How else could Batman afford those nice gadgets? He also had to be someone that had a lot of training. Years of it.

But there was something else. Something that the Batman lacked. But Dick had figured it out. To control crime without the aid of super powers, you needed a few things:

1. Money

2. Technology and weapons

3. Prowess in hand-to-hand combat

4. Intelligence

And, the fifth and final thing, were people like Rodney. Rodney wasn't afraid of consequences. He could have easily been thrown into juvie, had Dick decided to talk and tell them his fall down the stairs wasn't an accident. Rodney thought that fear had kept Dick from talking. But that wasn't true at all. Dick had realized that the world needed people like Rodney. People who weren't afraid to do the dirty work. One only had to figure out what people like Rodney wanted in life. And once they were on his side…

_I have intelligence. _Dick thought. _Since I have that, everything will fall into place…_

The first order of business: getting money.

xxxx

His parents had money. It was sitting in their bank account, gaining interest with each passing year. Dick also had his own little bank account. (They'd each gotten paid for their performances.) He had access to that much, but he only liked to use it for emergencies. Once he got out of the hospital, though, he took out all of the money. The money his parents left him couldn't be touched until he was eighteen. So his savings were all he had to work with. Dick had about $4,000 in his bank account alone. A modest start. But it wasn't enough if he wanted to actually get somewhere.

It was time to invest.

The best market for a preteen boy in Gotham was prostitution. People would pay big money for young boys. But Dick wasn't going to stoop so low as to that. So he chose one step above it: drugs.

Drugs were dangerous territory. Dick hadn't ever had the desire to try them. Rodney and the other older boys got drunk or stoned occasionally. And it never looked all that appealing to him. Still, it made money. He bought the best weed he could find, then went down into the lower neighborhoods and sold it cheap. It sold quickly, and he made a fraction of what he had spent. But soon word got around. People started pouring in to buy from him. He also began to sell beer, as well as run a betting circle. The money began to pour in. With some smart investments and a little patience, Dick had tripled his savings.

xxxx

Others began to notice his success. It began to attract the attention of other dealers of weed, booze, and gambling. The first attempt was made on his life near Christmas. Two men approached him when Dick was on one of his walks through Gotham. Thankfully, his fight training from the Shithole allowed him to get the guns from their hands and knock both of them out. They weren't men who were used to fighting with their hands. So it had been simple. He stole everything that was on them. Their guns, their money, and their phones. Some part of him felt extremely guilty as he picked their pockets. His father had always taught him that stealing was very wrong. He could practically feel his parents looking on with disapproval.

"I have to." Dick muttered as he walked away. He wasn't quite sure who he was talking to. His dead parents or himself. "If I want to avenge them, I have to…"

After that, Dick began employing people like Rodney. The thugs. The heart of any good operation. They became his personal guard, as well as his enforcers. Dick was very generous when it came with lending out money to people…but he always expected it back. If he wasn't paid back, problems arose. On some cases he simply set his thugs (Who he began to call his Dogs) on the debtor. In others, he went and spoke to them personally. But he only went and spoke to them if the individual was simply a person who got tangled up in something they couldn't handle. Not everyone in the world was scum, after all.

The employment of drug makers also began around that time. He hired people to make and sell the hard drugs. Meth, crack, heroine…weed and alcohol didn't fit everyone's tastes after all. But Dick was very careful to stay away from all of it. He helped dish it out…but he wouldn't do it himself. All drug PSAs aside, he knew that even the smartest person made mistakes when their brain was being constantly assaulted by toxic chemicals that were supposed to give him a high.

As this was happening, he did his best to stay anonymous. Most of his employees had no idea they were working for a young boy. None of the police snooping around had any idea. He gave multiple fake names out to help avoid the police. But as shown by the two men who found him Gotham, word was getting around. Soon someone wouldn't make the connection to him and the Shithole. The next thing he knew he'd be in bed with a slit neck. Or someone else would be. (He began to notice that criminals could be very clumsy when it came to having someone killed.) And despite the years of torment and abuse he suffered there, Dick didn't want the Shithole sent on fire while everyone was sleeping. Somehow he'd grown to have a twisted sort of affection for the place. When he left for good in the middle of the night in December, he found himself looking back.

He would miss the Shithole, he decided. In the same way a dog misses a master who beat him.

xxxx

Everything was coming together by the time he turned thirteen in the spring of 2011. Dick had enough money to buy a cozy apartment. But he put everything down in the name of one of the mobsters who'd first tried to kill him. It hadn't been hard to steal the man's identity once he'd gotten a look at the man's wallet. It had his credit cards, his license…it had been surprisingly easy.

Dick had the money. He had the thugs. He had the intelligence. He had some weapons. But no technology, no prowess in hand-to-hand combat. A few trips to Gotham's black market remedied the technology situation nicely. Some of the darkest, most brilliant minds of the world sold weapons and tech in Gotham. That was four things out of five. The next thing he'd need was a teacher. Dick's style of fighting was very unrefined. That may have been fine when trying to get at a kid who was his age and size. But it wouldn't do anything against someone like Rodney. Or the Batman. Odds were, he'd have to face both at some point in his life. So it would be better to prepare for that rather than getting KO'ed when the time came.

He came across a man willing to train him after a few weeks of looking. The man simply called himself Saitou. Dick arranged to meet him in one of the warehouses he controlled. Saitou came in, moving quietly through the crates. Dick watched him from where he sat before getting up to greet him.

"You are a child." Saitou observed. He wasn't a young man any longer, but neither was he an old one. His black hair was streaked with silver. Dick thought his eyes looked a bit like a grandfather's. Not that he would know. Dick had never known any of his grandparents. "I expected as much."

This surprised Dick. "You expected me to be thirteen?"

"Not thirteen. Not even a kid, truly." Saitou replied. "But I knew you would not be what it is expected. The greatest men are often those that no one suspects." He looked over Dick again. The boy had to be at least a head shorter than him. "The greatest men, sometimes, are not even men yet."

The man was a firm teacher, and very strict. His methods of teaching were harsh to say the least. But at the end of the day, he praised him.

"You make good use of your skills, boy." Saitou told him. "You're quick, and intelligent. But I get the feeling that isn't all you can do."

"No, it isn't." Dick was sitting down on one of the crates, exhausted. But at the same time, he felt oddly happy. All the bruises seemed like medals of honor to him. The day when he could fight Saitou and come away without so much as a single bruise was the day he'd be ready, he decided. And he would work his ass off to get to that day. "I can do something else, too."

"And what's that, boy?" Saitou asked.

The boy smirked. The boy's appearance disturbed Saitou slightly. It wasn't the bruises that the boy had earned in their training. Those would fade. And when they did, he would be stronger. No…there was something else. The boy was thirteen and small for his age. His bright blue eyes gleamed with intelligence. But it was easy for a man like Saitou to look beyond appearances. Hiding behind Dick's face was that hunger. That thirst. Hiding behind him was hatred. Hatred and a burning desire for vengeance. It was something that threatened to overcome him. But Saitou resolved not to let that happen. He had not been lying. Dick had the potential to be a great man. If he had someone to guide him, to help him get out of the grave he was digging for himself…

"I can do something else." Dick said again. "I can _fly_."

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><p>Sorry this chapter was a bit boring. But we can get to some of the action in the next chapter...which I hope will come later today!<p> 


	4. Time to Bow Out

I was going to make this chapter a bit longer, but I decided to stick with the ending place I chose in the end. Two chapters in one day! Booyah!

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><p>They say that there is no rest for the weary.<p>

Commissioner Jim Gordon could believe that.

He was on his third coffee of the night when he arrived in front of the Gotham city bank. It was an impressive building, with columns out front and a gold-plated sign hanging above the entryway. The bank was usually closed at that time of night. But about ten minutes before, the alarm in the building had gone off. Now police cars were crowded outside the front. Police tape had been placed in front of the stairs to keep out nosy pedestrians. (What person in their right mind would be awake at this ungodly hour, he wondered?) Gordon ducked under the tape and began heading up the stairs and into the building. About seven officers were in there already, talking amongst themselves.

"What's the story?" Gordon asked.

"Alarm went off at 2:28." One of the officers reported. "We first got on the scene at 2:33." As he spoke, Gordon looked around. There wasn't much to prove there had been a break-in. If it weren't for the tripped alarm, no one would have known something was wrong until the morning. "We checked the security cameras. They cut to black at exactly 2:22, and cut back on at 2:29."

"They hacked the security cameras." Gordon sighed. "How much was stolen?"

The officers looked at each other.

"Well?" Gordon narrowed his eyes.

"…nothing." An officer finally spoke up.

Gordon ran his hand through his hair. "Oh my…it was probably just a stray cat or something, and the security cameras happened to short out. This was a waste of time."

The officers' eyes widened in surprise. When Gordon turned, Batman was standing behind him. "You shouldn't have bothered coming. It wasn't a break-in."

"It was." Batman said. He motioned for Gordon to follow him. Gordon ordered the other officers to stay put before following him to an office. "This bank is a favorite among members of the mob. That's why it's the only bank in Gotham that isn't robbed on a routine basis." He shut the door of the office. It was a pretty typical looking place. There was a big oak desk with a Mac computer sitting on it. Pictures of family and friends. A potted plant in the corner. Two red chairs sitting facing the desk. "But whoever broke in wasn't looking for money. They were looking for a name."

"How do you know this?" Gordon watched as Batman turned on the computer.

"I don't for sure. Yet." Batman replied. A minute or two later, he was proven correct. "According to the computer, each of the files containing the information of the people who keep their money here were opened between the time the cameras went black and the alarm was tripped."

Gordon leaned against the desk. The files had copies of the photo IDs of all of the people who used the bank. "So who was this person looking for? And why?"

"Not sure." Batman shut off the computer and stood. "I'll look into it. What have you gotten on our newest crime lord?"

"Nowhere. This guy is good, whoever he is. He's got so many fake names it's hard to tell if he even uses his real one at all. No one knows who he is, where he comes from, what he looks like…" It was enough to give Gordon a headache. The city was crawling with all kinds of criminals, felons, mobsters, and psychopaths. It made his job that much harder when the criminals seemed to wise up. "But, as far as we can well, he has no connections to the mob."

Batman was silent for a few moments. "I wonder if there's a connection."

"Between that guy and the break-in?" Gordon raised an eyebrow.

Batman nodded. "Put more men on the investigation. I want to know who this guy is." Suddenly his earpiece, which always connected him to the rest of the League, came alive with sound.

"League to Batman. Come in."

"What is it?" Batman asked. Gordon watched, curious as to what the League needed Gotham's finest for.

"We have a situation."

"A situation?"

"It's the Joker."

"I'll be there shortly." Batman frowned. He then looked to Gordon. "I have to go handle something. I'll keep you updated on whatever information I find." With that, he turned and walked out.

xxxx

"It's a beautiful morning, Saitou." Dick said as he walked into the warehouse. It had become their usual training ground for the past few months. "Do you know why?"

"You found out his name." Saitou replied calmly. "Congratulations."

"Tony Zucco." Dick said. He sat down on one of the crates. "You wouldn't believe how easy it was to break into that bank. We would have been in and out without anyone ever knowing if one of the Dogs hadn't tripped the alarm…what part of 'don't touch anything' don't they get?" Dick shook his head. "But I guess it doesn't matter. Months of planning and training are about to pay off. Just three more days…"

"Why three more days?" Saitou asked.

"Three days from now is August 15th." Dick replied, as if this answered things.

"Dick…have you ever considered not choosing the path of revenge?" Saitou asked. He'd been training the boy for months now. Now he was well-acquainted with Dick and his story. The boy was a force to be reckoned with. All of his empire, the drugs, the gambling…all of it was part of a bigger plot. He wasn't interested in running Gotham. Dick only started his work so that he could get some extra money. Not even money for him to spend. The majority of it went to the necessities. Food, clothes, his apartment. The rest was either divided up to be spent investing or buying weapons and tech. The boy had built up an army and an empire, all for the sake of getting one man. It was crazy. Yet somehow awe-inspiring. "All of this, for one man…is it really worth it?"

"Of course it is." Dick frowned slightly. When he frowned, he reminded Saitou of his son. Of course, his son was long gone. He'd been dead for years. But Dick reminded him of him in the oddest ways. Perhaps that was why Saitou stuck around. His work was mostly done. Dick had learned very quickly, and was no practicing the more advanced techniques that Saitou had to offer. "But this isn't about just Zucco anymore. He's just the beginning."

"The beginning?" Saitou repeated, startled.

The boy went silent. He jumped from the crate he was on to another one. Soon he was standing at the top of a fairly large group of crates. Saitou had no choice but to follow. It took him a bit longer than it had taken Dick. His age was getting to him, and Dick was for more agile than he'd ever been. He always told the boy that he was meant to be born with a pair of wings.

Saitou sat down next to the boy. "You really shouldn't run up here to try to get away from me."

"I would never run away from you." Dick smiled at him. In a way, Saitou had become a sort of father figure to him. He could never replace the father he had lost. No one could. It was part of the reason why Dick ran away from the Shithole when a perspective family was on their way to meet him. Because they would try to replace his parents. And he could never allow that. "I come up here to think. Being up higher helps me. When I was little, I would find a tree and climb up it. Then once when I was three I made friends with this whole family of robins…that's why my mom started calling me that. She said they thought I was a bird, too, because I spent so much time up in the air…"

That Dick Grayson seemed like a completely different person now. Had it really been him that watched the country go by from the window of a van? Was it really the same person who climbed trees and then jumped down into his father's arms? It had been all sunshine and color. Everything he could have ever wanted. Now he was here, sitting in a warehouse with the man who taught him how to break a man's neck with his bare hands.

"I don't think you should go through with this." Saitou said. "Revenge is not justice, young one."

"Like I said…it's not just about Zucco anymore." Robin replied. "I have an _empire_ here, Saitou. And I'm only fourteen. I've made enough money to let me retire right now and never have to worry about a_nything_."

Saitou looked at him. "Why don't you? You're at the top of the food chain. You can leave, no one will stop you. You could move away, to anywhere you like. Go to school anywhere you wish." He paused. "I don't want this city to destroy you. You've got too much potential for that."

"I can't just leave. If I just poof, my nice and neat empire will collapse. It'll be chaos without a proper pecking order. Civilians will get killed when all of my Dogs try to go for the spot I left." Dick replied. "If I wanted to do that, I'd have to leave someone in charge. But I don't want to. I can run the mob out of town with all the power I have. The police can't do it. And the Batman can't do it. But maybe my little empire can. We can restore justice to this city." Dick looked to Saitou. "I've never had a real home before. When I was a kid, my home was just a trailer. Now, it's Gotham. I hate this city. But goddamn, it's grown on me."

"You're going to try and wipe out the mob then? By what means?" Saitou asked.

"Guns were invented for a reason, Saitou." Dick replied.

"They'll come after you." Saitou warned him. "Anything and everyone that was ever close to you. Even those circus folk you knew when you were a kid, and that orphanage you were at. They'll go after them."

"Good point." Dick replied. "I've been thinking about that, actually."

"You have?" Saitou raised an eyebrow. "And have you thought about how to overcome that?"

"I think I have." Dick said thoughtfully. "I think it's time for Richard John Grayson, acrobat and circus performer, to bow out completely."

"And who will take his place?" Saitou asked, alarmed.

There was a bit more silence from Dick. He stared up through the glass that made up part of the ceiling for the warehouse. It was bullet-proof glass, of course. Very tough to break. But it was clear and perfect for looking up at the moon. "Isn't it obvious, Saitou?" He looked back at his mentor and grinned. "Robin will take his place."

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><p>And here we go, folks! The origin part is pretty much done. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far! (Hell, I may even try to do a third chapter today. The muse is flowing and I REALLY don't want to do my chem homework! Yay procrastination!)<p> 


	5. Justice

Sorry it's been a few days since the last update! But school comes first. Hopefully I'll get another few out this weekend.**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>August 15<strong>**th****, 2012**

When Tony Zucco woke up, he was on top of the Wayne Enterprises building. The tallest building in Gotham. He crawled over to the edge and looked down. It was at least one hundred stories down to the ground. The sounds of cars honking and driving below floated up to him. Suddenly feeling sick, Zucco hurriedly crawled back away from the edge and began looking for a way down. After five minutes of finding nothing, he noticed something coming towards him. A boy. _Flying_. The boy dropped down on to the roof. The thing he'd been using to fly was a black, metallic pole that had wings to help with gliding. He slammed the end of the pole on to the roof and the wings retracted easily. He tossed the stick on the ground.

The boy wasn't very impressive. He was perhaps a head shorter than Zucco with wind-blown black hair. His eyes were covered by his mask. The boy was in a mostly black outfit. The only color came from the area that spanned across his chest and stomach, which was dark red. There was a black belt around his waist with different pouches. He wasn't sure what all the kid had with him, but he could very clearly see a gun and a knife.

"So, are you with the League?" Zucco smirked. "I didn't know they're letting kids carry around weapons."

"I only work for myself." the boy replied.

"Ah. So, what do you call yourself? Batboy?" Zucco smirked.

"Not quite. Robin." The boy crossed his arms and looked at him skeptically. Zucco repressed a smirk. That explained the red on his front, at least. "I'm guessing you don't remember me."

Zucco raised an eyebrow. "I've had run-ins with a lot of people in tights. Were you the-"

Robin suddenly pulled the gun from the belt off his waist. He pointed it directly at Zucco. The laughter in Zucco's eyes died. Robin might have been a kid…but he was also a kid aiming a gun directly at his face. "Think long and hard, Zucco…here, I'll even give you a hint." The boy reached up with one hand and pulled off his mask. His eyes were one of the brightest shades of blue Zucco had ever seen…and they _did_ look a little familiar.

"Who _are_ you?" Zucco demanded. His heart was beating faster in his chest. There was hatred in those bright blue eyes. Nothing but hatred and disgust. He jumped as Robin lowered the gun and strode towards him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

"Think, Zucco. Back to that circus." Robin hissed. "You wanted money from them, remember?" There was a bit of comprehension in Zucco's eyes now. He remembered. But he didn't quite remember _him_ yet…"You sabotaged one of the acts. The acrobats fell, and they died…but only _two _of them died. Their little boy Richard lived. Remember that?"

Yes, Zucco remembered. He remembered showing up to the circus and first demanding money. Of course, they'd refused and he'd been chased off. So Zucco and his brothers decided to sabotage the acrobats. One of them, the husband, had been very vocal about not handing over the money. It didn't matter that they had a kid. In fact he hoped the kid would die along with them. Perhaps if a kid died the circus would be more apt to listen to him next time. But only the parents died, and he'd been satisfied with that…watching them fall to their deaths had been oddly gratifying. While everyone else panicked, Zucco just stood there and clapped.

"Listen, kid." Zucco began. He might be able to talk his way out of this. "What happened back then is old news! Let's just put the past behind us. You probably turned out better without your parents, anyway. Where would you be now if they were still alive?" He smirked. "Not here, running with the big dogs in Gotham."

It was the wrong thing to say. Rage came alive in Robin's eyes. He punched Zucco across the face with such force the man fell over.

"I didn't bring you here to make nice, Zucco." Robin said as he stood over him. "I came to pay you back. My family seems to owe you something."

Zucco blinked. Did the kid mean he was going to get that money, after six years? The boy hauled him to his feet. When Robin had punched him, Zucco had fallen rather close to the edge. He tried to ignore that as he held out his hand. "Then pay up, boy."

That was when Robin grabbed his shoulder and kneed him in the stomach. Zucco would have doubled over, if the boy wasn't holding on to him. "This isn't revenge, Zucco. This is justice." And then Robin shoved him over the side of the building. The man went down screaming. His arms and legs were flailing wildly. Robin stood on the edge and watched him fall. It seemed to take forever, but he finally heard a loud _BANG_ as Zucco hit the ground. There was a sound of car tires screeching and taxis honking. Perhaps Zucco had just caused an accident. Robin smirked and turned around.

The Batman was standing there.

"Oh, hello." Robin said calmly. "I hope you weren't hoping to save him. Because you're too late."

"You just murdered him." Batman said, reproach in his voice.

"Very observant." Robin smirked. He moved around Batman, picking up his mask and putting it back on. "But an eye for an eye."

"You're that boy." Batman said, looking at him. "The one whose parents were killed…" There was something odd in the man's voice. It sounded something like pain, or even regret. He remembered the young boy he saved from the Fear Gas, and he definitely remembered those indignant blue eyes. "Revenge isn't justice. That man had a right to live."

Robin picked up the metallic stick he had tossed on the ground when he landed. It was lightweight and cool in his hands. "I don't regret anything. You don't know what it's like to have everything you know and love ripped away from you by other people's cruelty." He started backing towards the edge, the stick in hand. "The police wouldn't do anything. You wouldn't do anything. So I did this; I became Robin." He smirked and saluted Batman. "And stay away from the mob. I'll be doing the pest control from now on." That was when Robin jumped. Batman ran to the edge to try and grab him. Robin smirked and allowed himself to a fall a few feet before deploying the wings on the stick. They caught the air underneath them and stopped his fall. Soon he was gliding away on the wind currents over the city.

xxxx

"I've seen him somewhere before, Alfred." Bruce told the older man as he set down a tray. "That night a few years ago wasn't the first time I'd seen him." He was sitting at his desk, the newspaper spread out across it. It had been a few nights since Zucco's murder. The news had made front page for a few days straight. Zucco had been very a very influential mobster. He'd been in the police's top ten for at least seven years. Yet somehow he'd always avoided capture. Only now the attention had turned to the murderer. No one knew who he was, but word eventually got around that he was calling himself Robin. Two other mob bosses had died at the hands of Robin, according to the police. They'd even gotten a picture of him. It was a blurry, dark picture a bystander had taken. It showed him leaping from the roof of one building to another, most likely leaving another body somewhere. "There's something I'm missing. I know what he looks like, I know he's an orphan…an _orphan_…he was probably sent into foster care. There should be records of that, then!"

"Not quite, sir. They've been sending the children to the orphanage in the old part of town." Alfred said as he poured him another cup of coffee.

"They haven't torn that old place down yet?" Bruce asked, surprised.

"Not last I heard. I think it might be a good place to start." Alfred replied. "I'd head out in the morning, sir."

"Why not go now?" Bruce was already standing up.

"Because it is eleven o'clock, and to be honest, sir…you scare children when you're in the Batsuit." Alfred replied. "And you'll most likely be needed later tonight, anyhow."

"Fair point."

xxxx

"I love my work, Saitou." Robin smirked as he sat in the room where he held meetings with his higher-ups (Alpha Dogs), washing the blood from his hands. "The man I got tonight was the reason five kids in the Shithole were orphans. I heard he was fond of knives, so I had to get the one you gave me dirty. My apologies." The blood began to wash down the sink in a watery red flood. His hands had been disgustingly filthy by the time he arrived back. When he was finished, the blood was off his hands. But the coppery smell of it was still left behind.

"Don't you think it's time to stop, Dick?" Saitou asked. He looked up from his meal.

The boy frowned slightly. "I told you, Dick Grayson is dead. It's Robin now." He moved towards the window and leaned against it. All of Gotham stretched out before him. The Batsignal was burning bright in the night sky. Wasn't it always? "I just need to get rid of my files to make it official."

"Get rid of your files?" Saitou repeated.

"Yes. Birth certificate, school records, medical file…everything. The bat knows my face. Soon he'll remember that I'm an orphan and that they probably threw me in the Shithole. And I don't want anything they have leading him to me. The man's a good detective. You can't hide anything from him. You have to _destroy_ it." Robin replied. "So there will be a few…accidental fires tomorrow. He'll smell a rat, but it won't matter by then."

Saitou was silent. A police siren started up outside. A cop car drove right past them on the street. It was funny. There were so many criminals hiding in the shadows of Gotham…in fact, one of the ones they were looking for was standing right in the building they'd just sped past. Did they even have any idea? "Robin…this is insanity. You can't take down the entire mob. It will never happen. Turn back now, before it's too late-"

Robin turned, glaring at him. His icy blue eyes were uncharacteristically cold. "Saitou, I _will_ do this. Now please just shut up about it. I don't feel like arguing tonight."

After another prolonged silence, Saitou sighed and stood. "It does not matter how many men you kill…ten, a hundred, a thousand…you will never gain what you want. You felt nothing when Zucco fell, did you?"

Robin turned away from him. "Shut up, Saitou."

"Revenge is not-"

"I said _shut up_!"

Saitou did. He left, but returned later. Robin acted as if the argument had never taken place. His mentor decided it was best if he did, too.

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><p>I'll try for a longer chapter next time. I'll also try to bring in the other Young Justice characters...including a favorite character of mine.<p> 


	6. Disappearing Act

So here it is! I'm happy to have gotten another chapter up, as well as one that's slightly longer. And, again, I want to thank everyone who has been reviewing. I really do enjoy reading all of them, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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><p>Everyone has their secrets.<p>

Some people still sleep with their favorite stuffed animal.

Some people listen to really bad pop songs when their friends aren't around.

And some people ditch school and sneak out at night to go fight crime alongside four other teenagers as a part of a covert team deployed by the Justice League.

Barbara Gordon was one of the latter.

Being the commissioner's daughter, it wasn't any surprise she had a huge thirst for stopping crime. When she was thirteen, she'd created Batgirl. After donning the costume a few nights a week and helping the reluctant Batman, he'd cut her a deal. They were thinking about throwing the other three apprentices into a team to help prepare them for life as actual Justice Leaguers. Barbara could be a part of that team, but she had to promise to be careful. Barbara had agreed. Ever since the team had worked in secret. It was her, Aqualad, Miss Martian, Artemis, and Kid Flash. (The team had only been formed after Speedy quit. The League decided he _did_ have a point. The apprentices needed more training and respect. But Speedy had taken on the new name of Red Arrow and refused to take the spot on the team that was offered to him.) After the team was formed, she stopped seeing Batman very often. He distanced himself from her and only trained her in Mount Justice. Though he was still, technically, her mentor. Barbara never took it personally, though. Batman just wasn't a people person.

Occasionally, however…she would take it upon herself to go keep an eye on Gotham herself.

That was how she met Robin.

She'd known about him, of course. His blurry picture was splattered across the paper and the internet. The League estimated him to be around her age. This had impressed the team a good bit.

"If we could get him to stop shoving people off buildings, he could be an awesome teammate." Wally had said as they watched TV in Mount Justice.

"I don't think anyone would mind if he shoved _you_ off a building." Artemis replied. "Hell, I'd send him flowers." She smirked, but that smirk quickly turned into a frown when Wally threw a fistful of popcorn at her.

"We won't get a shot at him, anyway." Barbara said with a frown. "Batman says he's 'too dangerous.' I kicked the Joker in the balls two weeks ago! This is just another teenager with a knife and a vendetta against the mob." She sighed and leaned back against the couch. "My guess is that he wants to crack this one himself."

Being kept out of the loop always annoyed Barbara. She was one of those people that had to know what was going on. All the time. Call it nosiness, call it her detective skills shining through. But she knew Batman was hiding something about this Robin character. And she was going to find out what.

So one night when the boys were off with their mentors, Artemis, Barbara, and M'gann decided to go out on a night on the town. Justice League style.

"You figured out his next target?" Artemis asked as she lounged on a roof. Batgirl was standing near the edge of the building, holding a pair of binoculars to her eyes. "How'd you manage that?"

"It wasn't difficult. I think he and I…we think kind of the same way." Batgirl lowered the binoculars to look out over the city. "I noticed he's pretty orderly with how he kills people. He has a pattern between the three major families in Gotham. Gambino, Luciano, Falcone. Gambino, Luciano, Falcone…he's picking off their higher-ups in a pattern." She turned her head slightly to look at Artemis. "It's not that hard to get inside someone's head."

Artemis rolled her eyes. "For you, maybe. You might as well be a Martian. You get into people's heads more often than M'gann."

M'gann, on her behalf, blushed slightly. "I said I was sorry about the mind-reading thing earlier…I didn't mean to. I just forget sometimes."

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's _ok_. You don't have to keep apolo-"

Batgirl started when she saw a black shape glide past one of the buildings. "There! He's there!"

M'gann took to the air and flew towards him. Batgirl and Artemis began making their way after them. Jumping across buildings, sprinting across rooftops as fast as they could. M'gann flew close to Robin and he got her away with a surprisingly strong kick to the stomach. She lost her breath and fell down on to one of the rooftops. Artemis ran to her aid, but Batgirl wouldn't be deterred. She took a giant leap on to the next rooftop. She kept sprinting and jumping, until Robin was in the perfect spot. She shot her grappling gun and let it hook on the lightning rod on the top of a building. As she moved up with the line, Robin flew right in front of her. She kicked him and sent him sprawling on to the roof. She landed nicely a few feet away from him, putting her grappling gun on her belt.

"Well, hello beautiful." Robin chuckled as he got to his feet. She quickly noticed the gun and knife on his own belt. Was he man enough to use them, she wondered? "Come here often?"

"Yes, actually." Batgirl replied. "So are you going to come quietly or am I going to have to drag you off in handcuffs?" She stepped closer towards him. Her aim was to get close enough to take the gun and the knife from him. Though she couldn't lie; even with the mask on, she could tell he was a good-looking boy.

"On our first date? That seems like a big step, don't you think?" Robin chuckled. He aimed a kick at her head, which she avoided by ducking. Barbara dove at him, throwing a punch into his stomach. Robin recovered quickly and dropped down into a crouch. He kicked her legs out from under her and smirked. "Well, I'd love to stay. But I've got work to do." Robin glanced down at some of the rooftops below. M'gann was recovering from the kick she'd taken from him. He quickly grabbed his metallic stick and jumped off the roof again. Batgirl got to her feet and watched him go. The boy had a lot of physical strength going for him.

By the time M'gann had fully recovered, he was gone.

"Are you ok?" Batgirl asked her as she and Artemis joined her on the roof.

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever been kicked that hard before." M'gann said. Her expression was apologetic. She knew she shouldn't have even been hit by that kick, much less so dazed by it. If she'd recovered more quickly, they might have caught him. "But…I did manage to read his mind a little bit."

The two humans looked at her with surprise.

"You did?" Artemis asked. "Well who is he? Where does he live?"

"I didn't get any of that. It was deeper in his mind. It was like he's buried it." M'gann replied. It had been very…odd reading his mind. The moment had been brief. But she could tell his mind was slowly being polluted. Robin was carrying around a lot of hatred. And it was hard to discern what was hatred for other people, and what was self-hatred. "But I did get one thing…he grew up in a circus." She looked between Artemis and Batgirl. "…what's a circus?"

"I've got to go do some research." Batgirl replied.

xxxx

Bruce Wayne awoke and got ready to head out to the Gotham City Orphanage. He'd already called ahead and spoken with the caretaker of the building and the children, a crass-sounding woman named Martha. The story he'd told them was that he was considering making a sizable donation to the orphanage (He'd already decided he was going to either way.) and wanted to come out and see the place for himself. They'd permitted him, and so around ten in the morning he pulled up to a building that, quite frankly, looked like it should have been condemned twenty years before.

The woman he'd spoke with on the phone met him at the door and welcomed him inside. It looked as if they'd tried to clean the place, but it hadn't worked out well. The floors were still soapy with whatever they'd tried to mop them with. A layer of dust still lay over everything. Some haggard-looking toys still lay strewn about. Someone's beat up backpack was hung on the stair rail. The kids themselves made themselves scarce. They peered at him from their corners or peeked out when he passed their bedrooms. Of what he did see of them, they looked like little ghosts. Many of them were very thin with tired eyes. Some of them had black eyes and scratches on their arms.

"Why do all of the kids look so bad?" he asked Martha as she showed him the second floor.

"Oh, you know kids Mr. Wayne. They fight." she said dismissively.

As they went up the stairs, Bruce noticed a dark stain one a few of the steps. "And what happened here?"

"Oh, a boy fell." Martha replied, looking at the stain with a bit of annoyance. "Right down the stairs. His head was bleeding pretty bad, but the doctor said he got away with a concussion. I thought it was weird, honestly. He wasn't exactly clumsy." She began leading him back up the stairs. "Now, up here we have the-"

"You talk about him like he's not here anymore." Bruce interrupted. He began climbing the stairs after her. "Did he turn eighteen and leave?"

"Nope. Vanished." Martha didn't seem too upset about this. "His roommates tell me he used to sneak out at night and go into Gotham. I guess he went in and got kidnapped or something. But one morning we woke up and he was gone."

_This is it. _Bruce thought. _Maybe it was him, and he just finally left…_

"What was the kid's name?" Bruce asked.

"Richard Gray, or something. No wait…Richard Grayson." Martha looked back at him suspiciously. "Why? You know him? Lookin' to adopt or something? Cause if he ever comes back, he won't be getting adopted. Every time I brought in a potential family, the boy would up and run off. God forbid anyone take care of the damn little brat and get him out of my hair. Always jumping around…it's the circus freak that was in him, I think. Or the gypsy. Well, I don't know what he was. But it wouldn't surprise me if he was a gypsy. They aren't exactly a respectable group…"

Bruce tuned Martha out. He had the scent, and he intended to follow where it led. In his mind, though, he made a note to have the orphanage revamped to make it livable. As well as find a new caretaker for it. With a person like Martha running the show, he couldn't blame young Richard Grayson-whoever he was-for sneaking off into Gotham in the middle of the night.

xxxx

"You know, it's kind of disturbing how easy it was for me to break in here." Robin told one of his Dogs as they walked through the hospital records room. The Dogs were emptying all of the medical files on to the floor. Robin felt a bit bad destroying the medical histories of other people. But the files were all backed up on computers in this day and age. So once he was done here, he could simply go and hack into the mainframe and effectively erase his file while the hospital was still reeling from the fire. No one would notice. Besides…he'd taken precautions to keep the fire contained. He couldn't have it burning more than a staff lounge or two.

"Here it is, boss." One of his Alpha Dogs held up a file. Robin took it from him. It was his own personal file that had been shipped from hospital to hospital over the course of his life. He was born in Colorado, vaccinated in Chicago, treated for the chicken pox in Boston, given flu shots in Metropolis, Atlanta, L.A., and Vegas…it even had his birth certificate in it. His parents had always kept it in their safe, but after their deaths the safe was emptied. Whatever money was in it went into Dick's account. Everything else was either kept by the circus or handed over for someone else to keep until he was old enough to have it. In the midst of that, his birth certificate must have just been given to Gotham's hospital.

It was a reminder of those days that he spent traveling. Back when he had no set home, and liked it that way. When he would ride in a trailer and stick his head out the window to watch the country pass him by…it was just another reminder of Dick Grayson. The boy he had been, and never would be again.

Robin threw the file and its contents on the top of the pile. "Everyone, out. And make sure you aren't seen, for the love of God." His Dogs filed out and began leaving via the windows in the hall. Robin pulled out a matchbox from his pocket. "Well, Dick…it was nice knowing you. But I think a time comes when you have to say goodbye." Robin struck one of the matches and tossed it on to the pile. His birth certificate caught first. Then it slowly began to spread down and through the pile…

Robin watched it until the smoke alarms started to go off. Then he followed after his Dogs by leaping out of the hospital windows. They'd already left, but his motorcycle was still hidden in the shadows and waiting for him. Robin climbed on and pulled on his helmet. As he revved it and rode away, he could hear the fire trucks in the distance. No matter how quickly they got to the hospital, they wouldn't be able to save his file.

Richard John Grayson was one step closer from disappearing from the world entirely.


	7. Offers in a Graveyard

Holy shit, school is a nightmare. Ugh.

But it's the weekend, so I'll try to get a few more chapters out to you guys!_  
><em>

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><p><em>"In other news, police still have yet to come up with a suspect responsible for the burned records in the hospital, the Gotham school system, and various other buildings…the investigation is ongoing…so far there have been no injuries reported…"<em>

The news on the TV kept going, unheard by Robin. He was sitting in his home, staring at the fireplace. The costume his mother had once sewed for him was being reduced to a pile of ash. It was the last thing of his old identity to go. Somehow, he didn't feel sad. At first he'd clung to it as one of the last connections to his parents. But as the years passed, he'd grown to resent it. Being an acrobat was something he had loved. It was all he'd ever wanted in the world, aside from having his parents. But the world decided he couldn't even have that much. It seemed as if it sought out happy, innocent children and decided to break them. Take away everything they love, make them lose faith in the world, and throw them in places like the Shithole. That's what _really_ happens to good little boys and girls.

The costume had become a symbol of his past, and the happiness that dwelled within it. It was one of the pieces of him that had dropped off a long, long time before. And it was all that was left of Richard John Grayson. It was one of two things he'd brought with him from the Shithole, and he felt oddly relieved as it burned. When he'd first arrived at the Shithole, it smelled like their trailer still. It had reminded him of home. But after six years at the Shithole, it just smelled like the desperation and sadness of orphans.

"Is that everything, then?"

Robin turned to look at Saitou, who had just entered.

"You've burned everything that you are?" Saitou asked.

Robin nodded. "It's official now…all my files, and all the copies of them backed up on computers…are gone. In the eyes of the government, I don't even _exist_ anymore." He smirked slightly. Of course, there were still the old newspaper articles. The old posters from their shows. But it was impossible to erase all of those. Only one person would be looking at them, anyway. And he wouldn't be able to glean anything about Robin from them. Only Dick Grayson.

"I still don't understand why you want to erase everything you are." Saitou sighed and shook his head.

"I didn't erase everything. Even my new name is a reminder of my past." Robin replied. He looked up at the mantle above the fireplace. One thing from his past had escaped the flames. It was the old picture of him and his parents. It had been taken on the day when the circus stopped at a lake on the way to their next show. They'd been allowed to have a few hours of fun before they had to get back on the road. In the picture, Dick was standing in between his parents in his swim trunks. Dripping wet, he held up a fish for the person taking the picture. His parents were laughing at some joke his father had told a few moments before the picture was taken…

Saitou followed his gaze to the picture. "You decided not to burn it, I see…"

"How could I?" Robin asked. "They're the reason I'm doing this. I can't forget them." He sighed a little bit. "I can forget myself, but never them."

xxxx

A picture of a boy flying through the air was on the screen of the Batcave's master computer. It was a good shot of one of the acrobats. He was in mid jump, a giant grin on his face. His red costume was made even brighter by the spotlight that was shining on to him. It was a picture of Richard John Grayson from 2005.

"There he is, Alfred." Bruce said, leaning back in his chair. "There's Robin."

"Doesn't look like the type to shove mobsters off buildings or stab a man to death." Alfred remarked. "What on Earth is he doing, exactly?"

"He and his parents were acrobats in a circus." Bruce explained. "I found an interview with his mother. She said he was born while they were out in the middle of nowhere in Colorado on March the 20th." He frowned. There had been other things to be found, too. A video taken in 2006 when the wires had inexplicably given out on Richard's parents. They'd fallen and hit the ground. Their son and the audience had looked on with horror. "His parents died in an accident. But he seemed to think it was sabotage…"

"Perhaps it was, sir." Alfred replied. "Children often see the truth that adults are blind to."

There were eerie similarities between himself and young Richard. Bruce began to realize this as he sifted through old videos and newspaper articles about the Flying Graysons. Both had lost their parents, around the same age as well. In a way, he could almost understand why Richard had done what he had. He'd deduced that Richard had probably somehow linked the mob to the deaths of his parents. There was the possibility that there was some other vendetta. Perhaps he wanted to purge Gotham of crime in general, and thought it was the best place to start. The odd thing, though, was that he couldn't find any public records of Richard John Grayson. No birth certificate to be found. There were mentions of him in the older additions Gotham High's online newspaper. But no records that he actually went there other than that.

When he emerged from the Batcave, he knew everything he could know about Robin at the time. His name, his age, and that this boy was _very_ smart. How else could he have devised all of this? Had the boy been in public school for most of his life, he probably would have already graduated.

His mental picture of the boy was clear. Richard Grayson had been an orphan, with nothing left of his previous life. No friends his own age, most likely. He'd spent several years in a harsh environment. That orphanage had been bad enough when Bruce had been visiting. And that was when everyone was expected to be on their best behavior. What must it have been like all day, every day, for a few years? Enough to drive a kid insane. Richard must have felt trapped. Gotham could do that to its youth. Despite doing well in school, he was getting nowhere academically. No college would willingly accept Gotham High kids. There was nothing for him when he turned eighteen. That would be the day when the orphanage would kick him out. The walls were up and pressing closer. Robin must have sensed them. And, somehow, he managed to get out.

But where would Robin be now, he wondered?

Bruce knew the answer before he'd even finished asking himself the question.

xxxx

"Happy birthday, Mom." Robin knelt down in front of the grave and set the white roses in front of his parent's gravestone. The circus had paid for his parent's burials, as well as their gravestone. It was one large one, that stretched across both graves. Both of their names were at the top left and right, with the usual dates and 'loving parent and friend' message underneath. In the middle was his own name.

Richard John Grayson. March 20th 1998-

In their wills, his parents had requested that their son be buried between them when he died. He'd only known about this when they'd put the gravestone on, and someone informed him that unless he decided otherwise when he was older, he was going to be buried between his parents. Not that he had a problem with it. Often as a kid living in the Shithole, he would come to this graveyard in the middle of the night when life seemed more miserable than ever. He went there just to be closer to his parents. Sometimes he even wished for death, so that he could be with them. Those days were gone now. Sorrow had been replaced by growing frustration towards himself. Why he was frustrated, he didn't know. But it felt good to come see his parents.

"Richard."

The voice was deep, and easily recognizable. Robin didn't turn around right away. He already knew who it was. He muttered, "And Saitou says _I_ sneak up on people too much." Robin stood and turned around to face the Batman. "Good job, Bats. You figured out my name. Not that it means much anymore."

Hearing himself being called 'Richard' was odd. He'd always been Dick, or Robin. He'd only been 'Richard' when his father or mother were mad at him.

"So. You really going to fight me here in a graveyard, on my parent's grave?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or are you just expecting me to let you haul me off to Batgirl's daddy?"

If there was any shock as to how he knew the identity of his apprentice, Batman didn't show it. "Neither."

Now _that_ surprised Robin. "Then why are you here at all?"

"To talk." Batman replied.

"You're kidding."

"I don't kid."

"Well, I believe that much. I think the Joker is right. You need a good laugh." Robin replied. There was a moment of silence, and he figured Batman was glaring at him from behind his mask. Or thinking. Robin found himself getting irritated. "So, what do you want to tell me? That I'm just an angry kid? Because I already know that. That what I'm doing is wrong? I know that too. That I'm a smart kid and I'm wasting my potential? Heard it already. Two wrongs don't make a right? I'm going to hell? I'm insane? I've heard all of it already. Here's the kicker: _I don't care. _This whole city is one giant stinking pit of shit, despite you and Batgirl and those corrupt-as-hell police. Someone has to be man enough to get things done. Get rid of the mob, you wipe out half of the crime in Gotham. Then you've only got those crazies in Arkham to deal with."

"And you think you can handle them?" Batman asked.

"They're human, too. They eat. They sleep. They shit. Just like you, just like me. And a bullet to the face will kill them just like it would kill you." Robin frowned at him, crossing his arms across his chest. "You think your rule gets anything done? Take the Joker. A real piece of work. He thinks murder and torture are funny. Every time he breaks out of Arkham he kills at least ten people. But _every fucking time _you catch him, he's found too insane for a trial and shipped back off to Arkham. By the way, is that place made of wet tissue paper? People break out of it every single week, it seems like."

There was more silence. Robin walked past him, off of his parent's grave. Yelling at (and possibly fighting later on) the Batman wasn't something you did with your parents six feet under your feet. "Did I cover everything you wanted to say? Or are you going to give me a half-assed apology like you did when I was a kid? Because you don't have to. You didn't kill my parents. You just weren't strong enough to get rid of the guy who did. Though I guess in your mind, it's the same thing." He sat down on a bench beside the walkway that led through the graveyard. The Bat, of course, followed him.

"You didn't cover anything I wanted to say, actually." Batman replied. He stood over him, tall and foreboding. Robin remembered being scared of him as a kid. Not so much now. He knew Batman had rules. And even if he didn't…well, Saitou knew that he wanted to be buried in between his parents. "I wanted to say you and I are a lot alike."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Ok, I'll be honest. I haven't heard that one before. You're full of surprises tonight, Batty."

"I know a lot about you. Your name, for one. Richard. You were born on the road in Colorado. Started performing when you were five. Parents died in 2006 in an accident that took place in the middle of a show-"

"It was _sabotage_!" Robin hissed. "Zucco came to my father and the manager and demanded money! They refused, and so he sabotaged our act!"

"I believe you." Batman replied. He'd caught Robin off guard with that comment. Apparently, it was the first time anyone had ever said that to him. The Bat continued, "After that you were sent to Gotham City Orphanage-"

"Ah, the Shithole. You know, I almost kind of miss that place…"

"…and who disappeared from it many months ago." Batman finished. "Everything else…your medical records, school records, birth certificate…all that is gone."

Robin smirked. "I'm good, aren't I?" He stood up. Batman noted that Robin couldn't seem to stay still for very long. The boy seemed like a restless person. He was used to moving around, and often. "I don't care what all you know about me, Bats. I don't care if you think we're alike, for whatever reason. All I care about is taking down all the criminals in this city, by whatever means necessary."

"You'll get to." Batman told him. "That's why I came here. I came to make you an offer."

"An offer?" Robin looked at him suspiciously. "Since when does the Batman cut deals with convicts?"

"It's more of an opportunity for you. You can leave right now, go back to being the criminal and I'll go back to being the man who is going to eventually hunt you down and help put you in jail." Batman replied. "Or you can take my offer."

Robin thought it over, then sat back down on the bench. He smirked. "I'm listening, Bats."

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><p>If I missed any typos, I'm sorry. It's been a long week!<p> 


	8. Fitting In

Sorry this chapter took so long! School is killer.

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><p>"You're crazy, Bruce."<p>

"He needs one chance, Clark. If we guide him in the right direction…"

"I agree with Clark. This idea is most unwise."

"The boy isn't a psychopath. He's angry. No one has shown him any kindness since his parents were murdered. If the League does this-"

"-he might still turn on us."

"You have no faith in him."

"He's killed people. Why should we? Better question: why should _you_?"

"I've already promised the boy. He's on the team."

"What? Bruce, you can't promise things like that without consulting the rest of us first-"

"I already have."

xxxx

The doors opened, and Batman strode in. The members of the Young Justice team looked up to greet him as usual. Their casual demeanor quickly turned to surprise when a young man appeared from behind Batman. He was dressed in civvie clothing, with sunglasses covering his face. He smirked at them.

"Who is he?" Wally asked, getting up from his place on the couch.

"This is Robin. Your newest teammate." Batman nodded to the young man at his side. "He'll be living here with Kaldur and M'gann full time from here on out."

"Wait a sec! He's the one that has been shoving people off of buildings! Batman, he's a freaking _crime lord_!" Barbara shot to her feet, glaring at him. The other members of the team looked on at her with mildly horrified expressions. Not only because they'd just learned their new teammate was the crime lord they'd been hearing about, but that Barbara was yelling at Batman. You _never _yelled at Batman. "You're going to let a murderer and a drug dealer be on our team?"

"I feel right at home already." Robin chuckled and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Relax. I've sworn off of my bad habits for a little bit. The Bat made me a deal. Try things the League way for a little while. Get a little training, make a difference. If I make less of a difference fighting crime the 'right way', then I can go back to my old bad boy ways. _Without _the Justice League being on my ass the whole time."

"Please tell me this is a joke, Batman." Barbara pleaded.

"I don't joke." Batman replied sternly.

"He's right; he doesn't." Robin remarked. "I tried the whole way over here. Not even a hint of a hint of a smile. It's like telling jokes to a brick wall."

"If there are any problems, contact the League. But until there are, he stays." Batman said firmly. The message was probably directed at the whole team, but he was only looking at Barbara. "Understood?"

"Understood." The team answered in unison.

Without another word, Batman turned and walked out.

"It's official. He's lost his mind." Barbara sank back down on to the couch, covering her face with her hands. "How did the others _allow_ this? I mean, really! A teenaged crime lord working with the Justice League? Is he high?"

Robin smirked again. He took off his sunglasses and shoved them in his back pocket. "Well, if he was, he still would act like he had a pole up his ass. I'm not sure how this happened myself. One minute I'm in a graveyard, minding my own business till I had to go knock off some mobster, and then suddenly the big bad Bat shows up saying he wants to talk to me. And he cuts me that deal I mentioned."

"So instead of hauling your ass off to jail, he decides to let you work with the Justice League?" Artemis put her hands on her hips and frowned. "He really must be high."

"I'm sure Batman has his reasons." Kaldur interjected. His eyes went to Robin. "And, for now at least, you're a part of this team. So we might as well try to get used to it."

M'gann nodded once. She smiled timidly at him. "Well…it's nice to meet you. I guess."

"At least two of you have manners." Robin chuckled. "I think I kicked you in the face one night. Didn't I?"

"You did." Barbara walked up beside M'gann, frowning at him. Wally was right at her side.

"Right before I met you, I think. And pretty quickly after that I did some research and figured out your daddy is the commissioner. Guess it makes sense. Does he know you run around as a vigilante?"

Barbara's eyes grew wide. "How did you-"

"I have my ways." Robin replied.

"Why do I get the feeling that these next few days are going to be the most interesting days of my life?" Wally asked with a grin.

xxxx

While Robin got along well enough with his new housemates and Wally, he didn't mesh well with Barbara or Artemis. But it wasn't until a week after he arrived did they receive a mission.

"You know, you're not bad at this." Wally said as he aimed a punch at Robin. Robin deflected it and sent a punch into Wally's chest. But the practice fight was quickly ended when Wally dropped down so fast he was nothing but a blur to Robin. He kicked Robin's legs out from under him and sent him sprawling on his back. Wally stood back up and offered Robin help getting on his feet, which he took. "But you have to learn to adapt."

"That's what Black Canary told me yesterday. And what Saitou never shuts up about." Robin replied, rubbing his back a bit. "I figure this is the best place to learn how to do that."

"Who is Saitou?" Wally asked, looking at him curiously.

"Guy who taught me how to fight. He's been the closest thing I've had to a parent in a while." Robin replied. "Well, I knew how to fight before him. That was just clawing and kicking street-fighting, though."

"Whatever works." Wally said, chuckling.

One of the screens on the far wall turned on, and Batman's face appeared. "Batman to Mount Justice."

The young heroes stopped what they were doing to gather around the large screen. Robin had already begun to notice the respect the other heroes treated Batman with. Even Wally quieted around him. Robin had always figured Superman ran the show. But to him, it seemed like Batman was actually more in control. People did what he said. You didn't cross the Batman. You just…didn't.

"What is it, Batman?" Kaldur asked.

"I've got a mission for you." Batman replied.

Wally grinned. "Finally! We haven't had a mission in a while. What's with the hold up?"

Robin could feel Batman looking at him. Possibly for signs to see how the past week had been on him. It had been trying for him at some points. Suddenly he had to adjust to these new people who quite obviously didn't know what to think of him. To their credit, M'gann and Kaldur tried to be welcoming. When M'gann found out his favorite food was hotdogs, she tried to make some. Sadly…M'gann wasn't that great of a cook. Kaldur had told him about Atlantis, and in turn Robin had volunteered a little bit of his circus life. But it still felt odd to him. Living alone from living with an Atlantian and a Martian was a big jump. He'd mostly bonded with Kid Flash, who came to the base as often as he could. The boy was outgoing and funny. It made him easy for someone like Robin to get along with. He'd adjusted well enough…but he still has reservations. Mostly with Barbara and Artemis. But that didn't stop him from flirting with Barbara.

"I've been waiting for one suitable for the team." Batman replied. He hit something, and a holographic screen appeared across the back wall. The image of a warehouse appeared. Robin recognized it as one in Gotham, and one of the only ones he didn't own.

"Belongs to Jack White. Guy is impossible to get in touch with, and he won't sell for anything." Robin said before Batman got a chance to speak. "Whatever they're smuggling through there, they don't want anyone finding it. I've been there to check it out. Ten guard dogs, two armed gunmen at all entrances, and a security system that'll go off if a cockroach so much as farts inside of the building." There was a silence, and he smirked. "Let me guess…you want us to go in there and find out what they're dealing and find out who Jack White is?"

Batman nodded. "Precisely."

Wally grinned. "This will be fun."

"You head out in ten minutes. Go suit up and get ready." Batman said. The others turned to go get ready. Robin hung back, watching them go. He saw Barbara glance back and frown, but she didn't say anything. Batman looked to Robin. "What is it?"

"Don't trust Artemis. I know that sounds hilarious coming from a convict, but I know what I'm talking about here." Robin frowned. "You've got a mole. I'm pretty sure you know that much…but it's Artemis."

"And how do you know?" Batman asked.

"I do business with her dad. He does a lot of illegal dealing…and he works with the League of Shadows." Robin replied. "I didn't like to do business with him. When someone has ties to the League of Shadows, I step back. Lunatics like the Joker are one thing. Organized and disciplined ninjas? No way. Saitou…his son got involved with them. Tried to get out. They said sure, and gave him a nice pair of cement shoes as a retirement present." Robin frowned. It was another reason why he didn't deal with them. Saitou despised them. "I'd look into Artemis' familial background, if I were you." With that, he walked off.


	9. Whole Again

Sorry this took so long. School work is killer. Even as I write this I still have homework to do. Oy.

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><p>"You weren't kidding." Batgirl murmured. The team had split into groups of two. Since Robin and Batgirl had the best training in stealth, they sent them closest to the warehouse to monitor things. They were crouched on a nearby rooftop, looking at the security through a pair of binoculars. She handed the binoculars backed to Robin, who took a look.<p>

"Nope, I wasn't. Kaldur and I agreed that the first thing we do has to be hacking into that security system. Getting past the dogs and guards won't mean anything if we can't get in." Robin replied with a frown. He lowered the binoculars. "Sadly, I didn't ever have much experience with hardcore stuff like this. I hacked the bank's computers. But this is super advanced. I tried to hack it once and it practically blew up my computer. I actually paid for that one, too."

Batgirl gave him a look that, under her mask, might have been a mental sigh at his criminal ways. Or she could have been checking him out. (Robin preferred to think the latter.) "Anyone can hack. You just have to have the right training." She pressed two fingers against her ear to activate the communicator. "Batgirl to team. Do you read?"

"We read you loud and clear." Aqualad said.

"Same on our end." Kid Flash said as well.

"I'm going to start trying to hack the security system. Make your way over. Once it's down, we're moving in." Batgirl said. The others agreed, and Batgirl began trying to hack the system on the mini-screen that was projected out of a compartment on her arm. Robin picked up the binoculars and looked towards the warehouse. She glanced at him and said, "You know, you better not screw this up."

Robin lowered the binoculars and looked towards her. "Screw up what? This mission? Because I've done stuff like this on my own before." He smirked a bit. "Besides, I've been wanting in here for a while." He looked back towards the warehouse. This particular had caused him a good bit of frustration. Warehouses that he owned surrounded it on all sides. Yet this Jack White, whoever the hell he was, refused to sell. Robin had even sent his toughest Dogs to intimidate him. Though they never came back. He was never able to figured out whatever had happened to them. But a few of them had families, so he gave them a bit of money to help compensate. Still. It had puzzled him for a while. Now he'd be able to figure out what was going on, maybe.

"Not just this mission. This whole opportunity. Batman is really sticking his neck out for you. If you turn on us, you'll have me to answer to." Batgirl frowned, not looking up from her work. "I don't know why he's even bothering. You're a lost cause to me. But he seems to think you're just a lost little kid crying out for attention." Despite her mask, Robin was pretty sure she rolled her eyes.

"And what do you think?" Robin asked.

"I think you've had it rough. I mean, most criminals have at some point. And you're angry. So you lash out like a wounded animal. And usually, if you try to help a wounded animal, they don't know you're trying to help and just lash out at you too." Batgirl replied.

"Creative analogy."

"Yeah well-got it!" Batgirl grinned suddenly. The screen disappeared and she looked towards the building. "The security system is down. Now we just need to get past the dogs and the guards."

Shortly after that, the others joined them on the roof. From there, they mapped out their plan of attack. Kid Flash, Miss Martian, and Aqualad agreed to distract the guards. Robin, Artemis, and Batgirl would then head inside and begin looking at the warehouse. And Batgirl had brought something special for the attack dogs: a dog whistle. When they were all in position, Aqualad gave the signal. Batgirl blew the whistle. The attack dogs started to howl. When one of the guards kicked them, they turned on him. The other guards rushed to pull the dogs off of him. Aqualad, Miss Martian, and Kid Flash dashed to catch them by surprise. Batgirl, Artemis, and Robin quickly ran into the warehouse via the back entrance.

"I'm going to see if I can find any paperwork on this Jack White guy. You guys look through the crates!" Artemis told them. With that, she ran off.

The warehouse was pretty large, with crates stacked in high walls. Batgirl and Robin ran to the nearest one. Together, they managed to pry it open. The wooden lid clattered to the concrete floor. But when they looked into the crate, it was empty. The two exchanged a look of confusion and moved on to the next one. Empty. The one after that was empty, too. And the next one, and the next one, and the next one…

"The hell is going on here?" Batgirl raged.

Robin looked around. There were still hundreds of crates they hadn't opened. Were they all empty? Why keep a warehouse full of nothing? One look at Batgirl and he could tell she was thinking the same thing. Almost at the exact time they said, "They're trying to keep something hidden."

"Something is in here." Batgirl continued. "One out of these crates must have something in it. And Jack White doesn't want anyone to find it."

"Batgirl, my dear, you read my mind." Robin replied. He smirked a bit. "We really must be a match made in Heaven."

"Not the time."

"So that means later."

"Go fuck yourself."

She rolled her eyes as Robin laughed. She went to work trying to scan the building, seeing if there was anything in any of the crates. There were only two objects a scan of the building produced. The two of them split up to crack open the respective crates. Robin took the one that was stacked high on one of the piles. Batgirl took the next one. She found a crowbar and used it to pry open the crate. What she found disturbed her. Vials of a bright green liquid were in the crate. Batgirl carefully picked up one of the vials, uncapped it, and sniffed it. The liquid had a very distinct scent to it.

"Robin!" she yelled. "I think this stuff is liquid Fear Gas!" Batgirl quickly corked it again, hoping the smell of it wouldn't have the same effects as its gaseous form. She looked up towards where Robin was. It hadn't taken him long to scale the mountain of crates to reach the one he was looking for. She'd begun to notice that anything high in the air seemed to delight him. Perhaps that was why he named himself Robin. He succeeded in prying off the top and looked inside. For a moment he froze.

"What is it?" Batgirl called up to him.

"PIECE OF _SHIT_!" Robin jumped down from the top of the crates. He rolled when he landed to help absorb the shock of the impact, but she was shocked he hadn't hurt himself jumping from such a height. "There's a bomb in that one! A _ticking_ bomb!"

"I'll get the others!" Batgirl grabbed a vial of the liquid and ran outside, leaving Robin to find Artemis.

Robin got to his feet and found, to his dismay, that he _had_ actually injured himself in the jump. Somehow he'd managed to do something to his knee, which now protested painfully when he tried to put weight on it. Swearing to himself, he limped quickly to try and find Artemis. The timer had said two minutes. Not much time. Robin did his best to put weight on his knee in order to move faster, but this ended up with him almost collapsing twice. "ARTEMIS! WE HAVE TO GO!"

Artemis emerged from a small office-like room near the front of the warehouse. She was holding a joker playing card. "I think it's safe to say who Jack White is."

"Yes, that's very wonderful, but there's kind of _a bomb in the building_. Now come on!" Robin told her. Her eyes flashed to his injured right leg. It was obvious it was hurt now that he was standing up. If Batgirl had gotten a good look at him before she rushed out, she would have noticed it. And it was clear from the look in her eyes, Artemis noticed too.

Without another word, she sprinted past him and towards the warehouse exit.

Robin tried to follow her the best he could. But in his haste, he put too much pressure on his knee. It buckled underneath him and sent him sprawling on to the concrete floor. "Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_. Has to be less than a minute now." He pushed himself to his feet and looked around desperately. That was when he saw it. Almost completely hidden by the crates, there sat the front entrance. Thank God. As quickly as he could, he limped towards it and shoved the door open before falling through the threshold.

"There you are!" Aqualad was at his side in moments. He pulled him to his feet, saw that his knee was injured, and let him lean on him for support. Aqualad managed to help him get a good ten feet away before the bomb went off. The force of it threw them off their feet, but the explosion had mostly been centered towards the other end of the building where the bomb had been placed. The walls closest to the bomb lay scattered around in large chunks. Fire had erupted in the building. Had Robin not been killed by the initial explosion, it would have been impossible for the team to get to him in the flames.

"Thanks." Robin said, looking at Aqualad. "You just saved my sorry ass."

Aqualad smiled kindly. "Anything for a team mate."

The words struck Robin. A team mate?

Kid Flash quickly dashed over, the rest of the team arriving behind him.

"Are you ok?" Miss Martian asked, landing beside them. Her face was full of concern. Batgirl, though she tried to hide it, wore the same expression. "You're hurt, Robin!"

He smirked a bit. "Oh, it's nothing…maybe if Batgirl could kiss it and make it better…"

Each of the team members flashed a smile. They had all been shaken when they realized that Robin was nowhere to be found. With a vial of the alleged liquid Fear Gas in hand and a limping Robin, Miss Martian called her ship to take them back to Mount Justice. Everyone talked about the mission as they rode in the ship. But on the way back, Artemis said nothing.

_She knew I was hurt. She knew I wouldn't make it back to that one exit in time with my knee like that. _Robin thought. _So she either really, really fucking hates me…or she and her daddy figured out I know who she is. Now she wants me out of the picture. _A smirk slid across his face as he glanced at her. Well, Artemis was in for a nasty surprise. He wasn't going to go anywhere. Robin wasn't willing to admit it, but he was beginning to like being on the team. In the mornings he woke up feeling…whole. It was a feeling he hadn't had in a while.

No one was going to take it away from him. Not this time.


	10. Calm Before the Storm

Here's another chapter for you guys! Hope you enjoy! (Sorry for any missed typos in this one; it's rather late.)

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><p>It had been about three weeks since their first mission together. Kaldur had helped heal Robin's knee a bit once they were back at the base using some techniques he'd learned in Atlantis. The injury wasn't healed completely, but Robin refused to stay down for more than a day or two. Since that time he'd been on plenty of missions with the team. The teens were beginning to trust him. But they could still see the distrust in their mentors' eyes when they looked at him.<p>

When Barbara arrived at Mount Justice, Wally and Robin were tearing the place apart. Wally was dashing around the living room and picking up seat cushions. Robin, meanwhile, was rifling through the cabinets in the kitchen.

"…what are you two doing?" Barbara raised an eyebrow.

"Have you seen Robin's knife?" Wally was at her side in a moment, a pile of couch cushions in his arms.

"No. Did you lose it?" Barbara looked towards him and wondered how desperate he was getting. The boys must have been at it for hours if Robin had resorted to looking in the kitchen cabinets. (Well, who knows? Maybe he left it in there right next to the Captain Crunch and the pancake mix. That's where everyone leaves their weapons!) "I thought you had it with you last night. You used it to cut the wires on the security system."

"Yes, I know! I had it when we got back, too! I remember putting it beside my bed before I went to sleep." Robin slammed the cabinet doors in frustration. "God damn it, Saitou gave me that knife! Where the hell did it go?"

"Maybe when Kaldur gets back from Atlantis and M'gann gets back from that cheering competition, we can ask if they've seen it." Wally suggested as he dashed and put the cushions back on the couch.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "She seriously joined the cheer squad at her school?"

"Not all of us can be star mathletes at Wayne Academy, Babs." Wally replied with a smirk. "What are you doing here, anyway? It's Saturday."

"Mount Justice has the best gym in the country." Barbara replied. "And what are _you_ both doing here?"

"Where the hell am I going to go?" Robin asked with a grim chuckle.

"And I came to play videogames on a giant TV and eat junk food. Just like any other sensible teenager." Wally replied. He grinned and spread his arms wide. "Who will join me?"

"Sorry, man. I'm going to keep looking for that knife." Robin replied with a shake of the head.

Barbara declined as well and headed into Mount Justice's gym. It had been adapted to suit all the members of the team. When she looked, she saw a new addition. Roped bars hanging from the ceiling and a small platform. For the time being she ignored them and got to her usual martial arts practice. She could hear the sounds of Wally's loud, violent videogame being played. And after about an hour, Robin came in.

"Did you give up?" Barbara aimed a kick at the training dummy's head.

"It's around here somewhere. I'll find it eventually." Robin replied. His eyes went to the bars and he grinned. "The Bat is my favorite person in the world right now." He went over to a thin metal barrel and dipped his hands in, lighting dusting his hands with white chalk. The boy muttered to himself, "All my calluses are gone, so I'm going to end up bleeding like a bitch."

The girl stopped to watch him for a moment. So Batman had those put in for Robin? She watched him climb up to the platform, quick and nimble as always. He got on to the platform, a wide smile on his face. But as he looked at the bars waiting for him, the smile slid off of his face. He leapt anyways, arms outstretched towards the first bar. Robin grabbed it and swung in a high arch. He let go, spun in the air, and caught the next one under his knees. Barbara's eyes widened a bit. Robin obviously knew what he was doing. How long had he been able to do that, she wondered? They went on like that for a few minutes. Him practically flying through the air, her watching.

Finally, Robin let go of one of the bars and landed on his feet. He quickly fell to his knees and slammed his fist against the floor. "DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ZUCCO!"

Barbara jumped, alarmed. She walked over towards him slowly. "Robin, what's wrong?"

Robin sat back and glared at the floor. "When I used to do that, I felt on top of the world. I felt like I was flying. There was no better feeling."

She sat down beside him. "You were an acrobat, weren't you? That one kid. Dick Grayson."

The boy nodded once. There wasn't any surprise on her face. Barbara was training under the world's greatest detective. Obviously, she'd learned a few tricks for finding things out. "I would get so excited for shows…even just practice. But now…there's none of that. None of that happiness. None of that joy. All I see when I do that is my parents falling. Killing Zucco didn't do shit. I still lost my parents, my home, and now even the thing I loved the most just makes me sick to my stomach."

Hesitantly, Barbara set her hand on his shoulder. Ever since the night she'd first ran into him, she'd tried to research his identity as much as possible. The fruits of her labors gave her the correct name and his backstory. But it hadn't really prepared her for the more human side of him. It was easy to view the people she fought as just lunatics and crazies. None of them had ever really seemed like real people before. Barbara had never felt pity for the Joker, or for Freeze, or anyone else. But it seemed a bit different with Robin. Perhaps he wasn't just some schizophrenic kid with an unusually high IQ. Perhaps Robin was just what Batman said: an angry kid who had nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

"Look, Robin…" Barbara said slowly. "Maybe this is a sign that you should let it go. I know it's hard. But what's gone is gone, and can't be brought back." Her eyes met his bright blue ones. "But you've got a pretty fantastic thing going here. Some people would kill to work with the Justice League. You can start over. Batman already wants to take you under his wing. Hell, he shows more interest in training you than me!" There was a hint of bitterness in Barbara's voice. It was there and gone in a flash. "But the point is, you can have a brand new life here. It won't ever replace the family and friends you lost, but it might be able to help you deal with their being gone. Am I making sense?"

Robin nodded slowly. "You are. I actually do kind of like it here. You idiots are growing in me a little."

"I'll assume that's a compliment."

"It is."

There was a brief silence between them.

"Hey, Babs?"

"What?"

"Is this an appropriate time to try and make my move on you?"

"It can be, but making said move may be hazardous to your health."

"I'm willing to take that risk."

Robin leaned over and kissed her. Barbara returned the kiss, but smacked him on the back of the head when he pulled away. The boy chuckled and smirked at her. Barbara smirked back.

xxxx

The next day, Batman arrived shortly after breakfast with Artemis, Barbara, and Wally in tow. Just like the residents of Mount Justice, the other three teens were yawning and blinking sleep from their eyes.

"Today, you'll all be splitting off with your mentors and will be training here in the base." Batman told them. "We want to make sure you're ready for this next mission."

"What's the ne-e-e-xt mission?" Wally asked, yawning.

"We've looked into the liquid Fear Gas since your team discovered it. The League thinks what you recovered was a test batch, and was connected to a bomb in the other crate. If any of the vials were disturbed, the whole thing would destruct and erase the evidence from the League." Batman explained. "Losing his first batch only set the Joker back slightly. We've got reason to believe he has more, and this stuff is stronger."

"So what's he planning on doing with it?" Barbara asked.

"Release it into the water supplies of the major cities in the U.S." Batman replied.

"So what will you have us do?" Aqualad asked. "We are ready."

"The League will handle the most dangerous parts of this mission. Your role will be determined by how well you all do in your training. The better you do, the greater your involvement. But if one of you is not strong enough, then no one goes. Understood?" Batman told them, giving each apprentice a stern look.

They nodded. "Understood."

The other mentors arrived shortly thereafter, and broke off with their apprentices to assess their skills. Soon Barbara and Batman began to walk off, leaving Robin alone and wondering who the hell he was supposed to go with.

Batman looked back at him. "Are you coming?"

"Me?" Robin raised an eyebrow and pointed to himself.

"No, he means the _other _moronic acrobat." Barbara rolled her eyes.

"You weren't calling me that yesterday. But then again, I did have my tongue in your mouth for most of the day." Robin replied to her as he walked after them. Barbara smacked him on the back of the head, blushing furiously. Robin looked at what he had. Friends, for once. A sorta-kinda girlfriend. (Who was hot as well as smart.) A home. Perhaps Barbara was right; perhaps this was his chance to start all over. "Yo, Bats?"

"What?" Batman asked, glancing at him.

"Thanks, you know. For all this." Robin paused, suddenly feeling very sappy and awkward. To cover, he smirked and elbowed Barbara lightly. "Race ya to the gym."

"You're on, bird boy!" She accepted the challenge with a grin and fire in her eyes.

The two sprinted down the hall, laughing and hurling insults at each other. Batman watched them go and smiled. Just a bit.


	11. Knives

And another chapter! We're winding down now, folks. I think about two more chapters after this one, and that should wrap up the fic.

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><p>The morning after their assessment started with a scream. It startled Robin awake, and he practically rolled out of his bed and on to the floor. Still half-asleep, he stumbled around his dark room until he found the light switch. His room was painfully bare. Just a desk, a bed, and four blank walls. M'gann and Kaldur both had decorated their rooms, but Robin hadn't gotten around to it. The boy stretched a bit as he walked out and into the hall.<p>

"What's going on?" Robin asked. M'gann was standing in the threshold of Kaldur's room, her eyes huge. Standing beside her was Black Canary, who had come to tell the teens the results of their assessments. But as she'd arrived early, the Mount Justice residents save for M'gann had been asleep.

Before Robin could even blink, Black Canary was running at him. She had him on the ground, her knee digging into his back, holding him pinned. "M'gann, call the rest of the League! I've got this kid." Robin felt handcuffs clink around his wrist and struggled against her, alarmed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Robin yelled.

Black Canary yanked him to his feet, the handcuffs digging into his wrists painfully. She pulled him over to the door of Kaldur's room and pointed inside. Kaldur was laying in his bed, dead. His throat had been cut and he'd been stabbed multiple times in the chest. Blood soaked his sheets, and his eyes were wide and glassy. Like a fish ready for the market. The knife had been left in his chest. It was hilt-deep, all of the blade buried in his chest. The hilt was black with a bit of gold on it, the silhouette of a bird carved into it.

Robin's knife.

"Oh my God…you don't think…are you crazy?" Robin spat her. "Why would I want to murder Kaldur?" Tears were stinging at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Not only was one of his friends dead, but he knew he was going to be the accused murderer. "And why would I leave the _fucking evidence _in his chest?"

Black Canary said nothing, she simply dragged him off and forced him to sit on the couch and wait for the rest of the League arrived. They came in force. Batman, the Flash, Superman, Batgirl, Kid Flash, the Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and Wonder Woman. Black Canary talked with them and told them what had happened. When she told them about Kaldur, Batgirl and Kid Flash both gasped. Robin had his back to the group, and he twisted to get a good look at them. Batgirl and Kid Flash ran off down the hall to Kaldur's room, and Batman followed after them to investigate the crime scene. M'gann was sitting in a chair, shaking. She was looking at Robin, and he could see the betrayal in her eyes.

"I didn't do it, M'gann!" Robin said desperately. "I didn't! Why would I _want_ to?"

Batman sent Batgirl and Kid Flash away, and they came into the living room where Black Canary was guarding Robin. Neither of them said anything. They simply looked at him. When Batman returned, he reported his findings to the other members of the League. He had the knife in a plastic bag.

"His fingerprints were on the knife. Only his." Batman said quietly.

"Oh come on!" Robin growled. "Batman, you know something isn't right with this! I was never that sloppy, even when I was killing mobsters! I DIDN'T DO IT!"

Batman said nothing. He simply looked at him, handed the evidence to Green Lantern, and walked away.

xxxx

They took him to Gotham City, so Batman would be able to keep an eye on him. The Commissioner himself came to get a look at Robin when Batman brought him in.

"So here's our little bird." Commissioner Gordon said as Batman walked the boy in. His eyes went to Batman. "So, who is he?"

"His name isn't in the system. He's made sure of that." Batman replied.

"Richard John Grayson. Now am I going to get transferred to Arkham or what?" Robin glared at Gordon. In his mind, he was already plotting his escape. If they kept him here, in Gotham's city jail, he could be out before the night was over. But if they transferred him to Arkham, it might take a bit more thought.

"That depends on your mental state." Gordon replied.

"If we keep him here, he'll be on the streets within hours." Batman told Gordon, looking at Robin. The boy could practically feel the disappointment in his gaze. It hurt. Almost like disappointing a father. Only worse. Much, much, much worse. But it all just made Robin even angrier. How could Batman think he killed one of his friends? How could he not see that he was being _framed_?

Gordon nodded and had two officers escort Robin to a cell. He promised Batman he'd have him on the way to Arkham within the hour.

Robin looked back at the Bat. "That shit I said when I was a kid was true! There's blood in the water, Batman! And you're too fucking stupid to see it!"

xxxx

Jail wasn't like he imagined it. They put him in a cell all to himself. It was a very simple cell. No bars, just a heavy door with a small window. There was a bench with a pillow. A toilet. A sink. Nothing else. Robin paced like a caged animal, growing angrier and feeling more trapped by the minute. Why did he even bother? Why even _try_ to be the hero for once? They were just getting ready to turn on him. The whole time. Every distrustful glance, every scoff…it had all led to this. Who knows? Maybe this was just some elaborate plot to capture him. Maybe this was all the Bat had planned.

Wally…Barbara…they'd both been there. They'd both said nothing. Neither of them stood up for him. It was as if the time they'd spent working together didn't mean anything to them. Hell! Maybe they just secretly hated him too.

"It was stupid. _FUCKING STUPID. _They never wanted me! Why the hell would they?" Robin slammed his fist against the wall. All he got for his efforts was a sore fist. Robin sighed and sat down on the floor, leaning his head back against the wall.

_Calm down. _He told himself. _Calm the fuck down, Richard. You got back-stabbed, you should have seen it coming. You just need to get out of here first, then get your ass to work. Get out, find whoever really killed Kaldur, kill them, and then deal with the League. _Robin let out a deep breath, trying to calm his racing mind. It was difficult to stay the feelings of betrayal and anger that were swirling around in his mind. He'd never felt so hurt before. Once, he'd literally taken a knife to the back. And that didn't hurt as badly as this did. It hurt almost as much as losing his parents. He'd let himself care about those people. About Barbara and Wally and Kaldur and M'gann. He'd let himself care about proving himself to Batman.

"This is what you get for being stupid." Robin muttered to himself. "Instead of letting them play you, you should have been playing them the entire time." He looked around his cell. How to break out? It would be harder at Arkham. Much harder. But if a lunatic like the Joker could do it, certainly he could? Robin glanced up and saw the security camera in the corner. So they were watching him. Well, duh…of course they were watching him.

Robin got an idea.

He punched the wall. He punched it again. And again and again, until the skin on his knuckles was gone and blood was smearing on the white concrete wall. Everything went as he'd expected after that. Two officers came rushing down the hall and opened the door to his cell. They came at him to try to restrain him from harming himself further. Robin, agile as always, darted in between them. He slammed the cell door shut behind him and locked the two in the cell. He started to dash down the hall-

And ran smack into Kid Flash.

They both fell on the floor. Kid Flash had been going so fast when he hit Robin, it sent him farther back down the hallway. He sat up slowly. All of the wind had been knocked right out of him.

"…what are YOU doing here?" Robin gasped. The sound was hoarse and his voice wasn't working right. There wasn't enough air in his lungs to convey his shock and anger at Wally.

"What are you doing out of your cell? Did Batgirl already break you out?" Kid Flash asked, eyes wide. "Damn, she works fast..."

"I broke myself out." Robin got to his feet. Many of his muscles were sore from running into KF, but it didn't hurt too badly in comparison to his knuckles. They were still bleeding and throbbing painfully. "…wait…Batgirl is trying to break me out?"

KF nodded. "Yeah. We both are! M'gann is waiting with the ship outside-"

The other cops had caught on. They were beginning to come towards the cell block.

"Explain later! Get us outside, and tell Batgirl to meet us!" Robin said. Inside, he felt that heavy anger turning into a small piece of hope. Kid Flash grabbed him and dashed past the cops, through the door, into the lobby, and outside. On the way he contacted Batgirl, who had apparently been trying to hack the security cameras. When they got outside, she was crouching on the roof. The boys used the fire escape to join her. M'gann's ship appeared as it came out of camouflage mode. A door appeared for them. Each of the teens got in quickly and seated themselves. M'gann put the ship back on camouflage mode and took off.

"Your hands are bleeding." Batgirl said with a frown.

Robin looked down at his knuckles once more. "Really? I couldn't tell. Now who wants to explain what the hell is going on here."

Instead of explaining, Batgirl and Kid Flash looked to M'gann. She'd been silent ever since they boarded the craft. After a few more prolonged minutes of quiet, she said, "He didn't do it."

"Of course I didn't! Why would I?" Robin snapped.

"Relax, dude. We didn't think you did. We just had to have M'gann scoop around inside your brain to make sure." Kid Flash replied. "Now go change out of your jail clothes. We've got to find Artemis."

"She just read my-…you know what, forget it. And Artemis wasn't with the others when they came to the base." Robin realized as he stood up. "Where is she?"

"We don't know. But we think she's the one who killed Kaldur and tried to frame you." M'gann replied.

"What?" Robin didn't feel betrayed at that. He always knew that Artemis was a rat. He'd done enough business with her type to know that much. But in all his happiness, he'd forgotten…"Getting me blown to pieces didn't work. So she had to frame me. Of course she would, that little bitch…" With a frown, he looked at M'gann. "How did you guys figure that one out?"

"I didn't believe you killed Kaldur. So I looked to see if there was any security footage of you doing it. They'd destroyed the entire thing…but I found some footage that she _thought _she deleted…really it was just stored on the back-up server. Like the recycling bin for our data. And it was of her going into your room and grabbing the knife from beside your bed." Batgirl said. There was something odd in the way she looked at him. Maybe she hadn't really thought he hadn't done it. Maybe she'd just hoped he hadn't. And in that hope, she saved him a trip to Arkham.

"That bitch stole my knife, too!" Robin frowned. "M'gann, take us to north Gotham. We're going to find her, and we're going to find her my way."


	12. Traitor

Second-to-last chapter! Enjoy.

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><p>When he opened the door to the penthouse, Saitou was sitting at the table with a cup of tea. He'd left the place in Saitou's care. He also had Saitou managing the paperwork part of his empire. None of his Dogs or Top Dogs knew that he was gone. Robin had decided to leave his empire working like clockwork, with all of his little followers not even realizing their king had gotten on his horse and ridden off to lands unknown.<p>

Well, now the king was back. And there was hell to pay.

"Robin." Saitou stood. "It is good to see you." He smiled a bit and hugged the boy, who returned it. "Why have you returned? I thought-"

"League turned on me at the first sniff of trouble." Robin replied with a frown. "These are my friends. Miss Martian, Kid Flash, and Batgirl. I met them while I was working with the League." He looked to his friends. "Everyone, this is Saitou. Now make yourselves at home. I have work to do." Robin walked into his office room and shut the door.

"…so…got any food?" Kid Flash asked with a slight grin.

Batgirl sighed. "Your stomach is like a bottomless pit…"

Saitou smiled a bit. "Yes, we have food. It's about time I prepare dinner anyway."

xxxx

Robin emerged from his study about an hour after dinner. Saitou hadn't bothered setting a place for him at the table. He'd known the boy wasn't going to come to dinner, so he made a plate for him and put it in the fridge. When Robin finally came out, he went straight to the kitchen and begun rummaging around in the aforementioned fridge. He put his plate in the microwave and leaned against the counter. "I've got all my Dogs on the look-out for Artemis. It'll be hard…they've got a manhunt going on out there. But they'll spot her."

"Shouldn't we be going?" Batgirl asked. "We're sitting ducks in this apartment."

"They won't link this place to me. It's under the name of Xavier Crinkle, a rich but senile old man that has to wear adult diapers." Robin replied. The microwave _pinged _and he opened it up to get his dinner out. "All we have to do is wait. My Dogs will do the dirty work. I told them not to interact with Artemis if they spotted her. Just to call me. I want to teach her a lesson in manners. And then take her back to the League and teach them a little lesson in trust."

"Robin…it isn't their fault. Yes, they were quick to accuse you…but it's just with your past…" Miss Martian began.

"I wouldn't kill my own friend, M'gann!" Robin snapped. "I only killed mobsters. Those were the _only _people I ever killed! People that deserved it. Kaldur didn't deserve it. They knew that. Batman…he knew that I didn't ever kill innocent people. And I wouldn't ever…"

Miss Martian looked down, slightly abashed. Batgirl went over and set a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Look, we know it wasn't you. So don't go and blow up at her. We'll find Artemis We'll get her to confess. Martian Manhunter can read her mind if it comes to that. Hell…I'll even yell at Batman till he apologizes. And you know I will." She smiled a bit and kissed his cheek. "So relax. Your men will spot Artemis and we'll get this whole thing sorted out."

"You know, you're a girl of many faces. One minute you're a fiery redhead bitching me out, the next you're all sweet and telling me to keep calm." Robin replied, smirking a bit. "An angel, a devil, hot, and smart. Where have you been all my life?"

"Are you two really going to keep rubbing my single-ness in my face?" Kid Flash asked with a sigh. He flopped down on to the couch. "So all we can do is wait? That's…really boring. And lame. I feel like we should be out doing something-"

At that moment, the phone rang. Robin picked it up. "Hello. Uh-huh. Corner of King Street and Drake Avenue? Got it." He slammed the phone down. "Your wish has been granted, Wally. Let's move out." Robin looked to Saitou. "I'll be back soon. After this and my little chat with the League, the deal is off. I was a good little boy, the League wasn't. Now I get to go back to doing my thing without them being on my ass the whole time." He turned to walk out, but Batgirl pulled him aside.

"Promise me you won't kill her." Batgirl said sternly, looking at him. "I won't let you go if you're going to."

"Babs, she's a murderer. And she framed me. And she stole my knife! I have all the reason in the world to kill her." Robin replied with a frown.

Batgirl set her hands on his shoulders. "Remember what I told you about keeping calm? Remember it now. You can't tell me you were happy when you were killing people. You aren't a psychopath. You don't think death and murder are fun. Killing people is your way of dealing with things, because you don't know what else you can do." She frowned at him. "If you kill her, you'll just be digging yourself a deeper grave."

"Don't get all Freud on me, Babs." Robin grabbed her wrists and took her hands off his shoulders. "Next thing you'll be telling me you're worried I'll go to Hell."

"Well-"

"Oh my God, Babs."

"Just promise me."

"No. Now let's go." Robin started to run out after Kid Flash and Miss Martian.

Batgirl grabbed his arm. "Promise. Me."

"Fine! I promise. Now let's go!" Robin jerked his arm away from her and took off.

xxxx

Artemis was still at the corner when they arrived. She was arguing with someone very vehemently in a language that the team wasn't quite sure of. The team urged Robin to wait before they jumped out. They wanted to try and understand what was going on. Batgirl was hurriedly setting up her translator when another figure appeared.

"I'd hate to interrupt." The new person spoke in English. They pointed up to the rooftop where the team had been lying in wait. "But you're being watched."

Robin jumped down from the rooftop. He narrowed his eyes at Artemis. "Hello, traitor."

The others joined him. Artemis' eyes grew slightly bigger and she took a step back, then frowned. "What are you guys doing with _him_? He's a traitor! He killed Kaldur!"

No one responded. They were all looking at Miss Martian, who had her eyes closed. Her face was twisted in concentration. She reopened her eyes and said, "She did it."

"Murderer!" Robin ran at Artemis. He jumped and slammed both of his feet into her chest, knocking her off her feet. Robin flipped in mid-air to avoid landing on his head. Miss Martian blasted one of the others and Kid Flash took down the second person easily.

Robin frowned as he looked at the stunned Artemis, hand itching for the gun on his belt. Batgirl came over and grabbed his hand, as if she knew what it had been wanting. Robin said, "That wasn't satisfying at all."

"Maybe seeing her get dragged off to prison will be."

The group turned to see Batman walking out of the shadows. "I've been looking for you, Robin. The League made a mistake."

"The _League _made a mistake?" Batgirl frowned.

"I made a mistake." Batman replied. "I went back and looked. I found the evidence that Batgirl found. I should have checked the cameras before I took you to Gordon."

Robin crossed his arms. "Yeah yeah. Shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, should you Bats? I guess it works in my favor though. I didn't break my end of the deal. You did. So I get to go back to doing what I do…without your little meddling."

No one noticed Artemis slowly coming to. She sat up slowly. This was a disaster. Her cover was blown, the one thing she feared. All because of him. That bird brained little convict. She reached for her bow and knocked an arrow. His back was to her, and no one was paying attention. They were more concerned with Batman's sudden arrival. They thought she and her people were down for the count. Well, they were wrong. She raised her bow up, aimed, and let the arrow fly when M'gann finally noticed that she was still conscious. The Martian girl yelled, but it was too late.

The arrow hit Robin, and he yelled and fell to his knees. Within moments, he was unconscious.

xxxx

When Robin awoke, he was in a hospital room. He frowned and sat up. Pain exploded in his chest and he gritted his teeth and laid back. "What in the hell…" He looked around. It was a pretty basic room. Stark white walls. A large window. A small TV. A chair or two for visitors to sit in. There was a Get Well Soon balloon floating in the corner. Robin wasn't sure if that was something the hospital staff did to make people feel like someone cared, or if Barbara or someone else had left it. Too confused (and sore) to do much else, Robin went back to sleep.

When he awoke, someone was setting a basket of flowers down. He sat up a bit and smirked. "Really, Babs? Flowers?"

She turned and grinned. "You're awake! Oh thank God. We've been worried. Erasing your records almost killed you, you idiot! They didn't know you were allergic to penicillin! And they don't know who the hell your legal guardian is, so they don't know who to allow in here, so I'm having to sneak up here to see your drugged up ass-"

"Back up." Robin replied. "What happened?"

"Artemis shot you. Poisoned arrow. I knocked her out before she could shoot anyone else." Barbara replied, sitting on the edge of his bed. "We gave you over to the paramedics, and they had to unmask you and everything. They asked us if we knew anything about you, but we told them we didn't. I mean…they wouldn't have been able to do much by knowing your name. So they brought you here to Gotham Medical. I came running in spouting some story about how I knew you from the streets or whatever and they told me you had a rough time in surgery because they figured out the hard way you were allergic." She frowned. "If you had died, that would have been some damn good dramatic irony."

"Penicillin? It wouldn't have done anything. That wasn't on my record I don't think. So there's that." Robin chuckled slightly, then winced. "Ok, ow…so...how long have I been in here?"

"Four days. I've been sneaking in to see you since you got here. Updating everyone and all that stuff. You really got that Saitou guy worried, ya know." Barbara replied. She grabbed his hand and frowned a bit. "You had me worried. Really worried."

Robin smiled a bit. "I don't know if it's the painkillers or what, but you look really cute when you're worried."

She rolled her eyes. Then she smirked. "Yeah, well…if you want to, you can tell the hospital people your real name. Not that it'll do much good…but they can open a new file for you."

"I'll think about it." Robin replied. "So, is Artemis good and locked up?"

"Oooh yeah. But…once you get out of here…I mean, the Justice League can't grant you amnesty for those murders. And the hospital knows you are Robin…you were in your suit and everything when the paramedics got you…" Barbara said slowly.

"Busted, you mean." Robin sighed. "How long? I mean, until I'm well and they can drag me off to prison?"

"A few weeks." Barbara replied meekly.

"Then I'm just going to sit back and relax." Robin said. "Now, give papa a kiss." He grinned. Barbara rolled her eyes, but she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.


	13. Having a Blast in Bludhaven!

About two weeks later, Barbara entered Robin's hospital room to find it empty. Bed made, gifts gone, no sign of him left. Fear and confusion swirled in her head in some odd tango as she walked into the room. Had the police already come and hauled him off to Arkham? That was impossible. She'd checked her father's work a million times. They weren't supposed to come for Robin until tomorrow. Had something changed? Or had something worse happened? Did he get an infection or get sick or…

That was when she noticed the note.

It was hiding underneath the bed. Far enough out of sight to not be noticed…unless you were looking for clues to figure out where someone went. She knelt down and picked it up. Scrawled in black Sharpie was a brief note from Robin:

_Dear B,_

_You didn't think I'd actually wait around for the cops to get me, did you?_

_I'll send you a postcard._

_Love, _

_Robin_

Barbara smiled a bit and crushed the note in her hand. Stupid. Why did she think Robin would really wait around to be hauled off in handcuffs? She chuckled a bit and walked out of the room. Where would he go, she wondered? What about Gotham? And that Saitou guy that he considered to be a father? And what about _her_? Obviously he couldn't tell her where he was going. The police would be on him in a minute if they found the note first. But still, it would be nice to be included.

She called Wally and M'gann, the final remnants of their team. They were just as confused and slightly worried, but not very surprised. Neither of them had expected Robin to go willingly off to prison. Prison had been inevitable since someone at the hospital blabbed that they had Robin in custody. After that, there had been no way for the League to remedy the situation. The public knew about it. And when the public knows, someone has to go to jail.

Barbara returned home. She kept an eye on her little brother who was annoying as usual. She'd already started dinner by the time her mom got home from her job at the school. It wasn't until later that night did her father get home. He ranted and raved to her mother about how the Robin kid ran off from the hospital and how the place didn't even have someone watching him. Feeling slightly guilty, Barbara snuck off to her bedroom to get ready for bed. She changed into her pajamas and brushed out her hair. Then she noticed a postcard sitting in her window. Barbara went over and picked it up.

_Having a blast in Bludhaven! _The postcard said cheerily. The text was printed over the view of a picturesque city with tall towers and gleaming windows. Barbara flipped it over on to the back. Another letter from Robin.

_Dear Babs,_

_By the time you read this I'll be in Bludhaven by now. Don't let the picture fool you. It's worse than Gotham. It needs someone to clean up the streets. I'll write letters to you when I get the time. Oh, and from now on, 'Shithole #2' is code for Bludhaven. Shithole #1 is code for Gotham. Put any letters for me in the loose brick in the alley. You know the one, I think._

_Tell Bruce I said hi._

_Love, _

_Robin_

"Tell Bruce I said hi? Who the hell is Bruce?" Barbara wondered. She put the postcard in her pillowcase for the time being. She'd destroy the letter later. The girl reached under her bed and found a notebook. She grabbed a pen and started writing.

_Dear Robin,_

_Good job on giving the cops the run around…my dad is so steamed you wouldn't believe…_

xxxx

"Robin left me a postcard."

Batgirl looked to her mentor, wondering what his reaction would be. His expression didn't change. So she continued, "He said he'd be going to Bludhaven. It's worse than Gotham apparently. And he said to tell someone named Bruce he said hi. Do you know a Bruce?" She looked at him questioningly.

"I may know a few." Batman replied. For a moment, Batgirl thought she saw a slight smile on her mentor's face. But that was impossible. Batman never smiled. "You're done for the night. Good job."

Batgirl stared at him and started to protest, but Batman was already on his way. Batgirl huffed. Well, she could still do work on her own. Batman saw her flitting from rooftop to rooftop as he made his way to the Batmobile.

When he returned to Wayne Manor, the whole place was silent as usual. With only him and Alfred there, it was never very loud. He was about to head up the stairs and go to bed when he heard a noise. Frowning, Bruce followed it. It was coming from the kitchen. The light was on and creeping through the cracks of the door.

"Alfred? What are you doing up still?" Bruce asked, pushing the door open.

Robin was sitting on the counter, smirking and eating from a bag of chips. "Hope you don't mind. I got hungry. Decided to stop for a snack before I left."

"I had a feeling you hadn't left the city yet." Bruce replied.

"Nah. I'm going to, obviously. I mean I have to. But this place has kind of grown on me. I haven't left it since I got here as a kid." Robin said, taking a bite out of another chip. "It's weird, isn't it? When I got here, I figured I wouldn't be staying long. We'd be in Gotham for a week. Maybe two. If that. And I ended up being stranded here for years. I _dreamed _of leaving this place. But I never could bring myself to just pack up my shit and leave."

"I know the feeling." Bruce said. "So, how did you figure it out?"

"Wasn't hard. You and me are a lot alike, actually. You know, we lost our parents at the same exact age." Robin raised an eyebrow at him. "They were murdered, too. Just like mine. Only you inherited their millions. I got shoved into the Shithole."

Bruce smiled a bit. That was why he'd taken such an interest in the young boy. They were so alike. Only Robin hadn't had a home, or a friend. No one to turn to. Bruce had at least had Alfred. When he looked at Robin, he could see himself. "You know, you don't have to go. You could give up the Robin gig. Live a quiet life as Bruce Wayne's son."

"You can't adopt someone who doesn't exist, Bats." Robin replied. He grinned. "Besides…I work alone. So…you going to call the cops on me or are you going to give me a headstart?"

"That depends."

"On…?"

"What are your methods going to be in Bludhaven?" Bruce asked.

"Oh, you'll see. Gotta run." Robin grinned and slipped out the open kitchen window. Bruce shook his head and turned off the light. He headed upstairs to his bedroom. To his surprise, the window was open there as well.

Robin's gun, his last remaining deadly weapon since the League kept the knife as evidence, was lying on Bruce's bed. The boy had left a note that said:

_You keep this. I won't need it anymore. _

_P.S. I think I've outgrown Robin. Nightwing has a good ring to it…don't you think?_

* * *

><p>And that's all, folks! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. I love seeing your feedback. If you liked this story, go over and read Behind the Mask. <em><br>_


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